


The Winter Rose

by Kayasurin



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: A Tale as Old as Time, And so is Disney, BUCKETS OF ANGST, Dubious Scientific Concepts, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sexy-times, Handwaved Via Author Powers, Jack has Tayledras Hair, M/M, Manny Can't Communicate and Doesn't Even Try, Possibly Other Triggers, So You'd Think Aster Would be Familiar With it, Some Hypocritical Humor, Supreme Overlord of Winter, That Will be EXPLICIT Sexy-times, The Kink Meme is at Fault, When he Shows up, attempted suicide, some violence, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 129,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayasurin/pseuds/Kayasurin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The secret source of humor is not joy but sorrow; there is no humor in Heaven."  Apologies to Mark Twain.</p><p>With no wonder, no dreams, no memories, and no hope... how can you possibly have any joy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

In the year 2013, the winter spirit's annual gathering took place atop Greenland's most northerly glacier. Most of the winter spirits attended, though several were notable by their absence. The man sometimes known as Father Frost and other times as Ded Moroz, for instance, avoided the gatherings as though he would catch a plague from the members. Not every spirit could attend every year, either, though three of the great powerhouses- the Snow Queen, Russia's General Winter, and the leader of Japan's Yuki-Onna, Rin-Sama- attended every gathering, even the smallest.

One spirit, who was never invited, never attended, and never even knew about the gatherings, was Jack Frost. Several of the minor spirits would have welcomed him, but the more powerful individuals were pleased by his absence.

The gatherings had begun three hundred years ago, not so coincidentally the same time Jack Frost came to be. The Snow Queen, General Winter, and Rin-Sama had gotten together to pool their resources to try and slip free of the moon's sudden and unwelcome decision.

Where once their powers over the cold and ice had been unfettered, now they were bound. Winter no longer _was_ ; it belonged to, answered to, Jack Frost. As Jack Frost disapproved of the mortals dying in the snow, the three most powerful spirits of winter had found their abilities halved. Nor were they alone in such a thing, as all winter spirits of more malevolent tendencies discovered new limits. The first few years had been spent working out how best to be free of such constraints, but as the decades rolled by, they became used to it- and humans became better able to survive the cold.

Oh, now and then they were able to flex their muscles and cause the humans some damage, but it never seemed quite enough.

Without their most entertaining diversions available, the powerful spirits eventually turned to an activity that would later be called "Water cooler discussions".

In short, they gossiped.

"Something's up with Jack," General Winter said. He bowed to the Snow Queen, and then to Rin-Sama.

The Snow Queen arched one delicate eyebrow. "Something's up with Jack?"

"However do you mean, Shogun Fuyu-Sama?" Rin-Sama asked.

The General smirked, and offered both ladies an arm. "Well," he murmured, escorting them through the crowd. He wasn't alone in spreading the news, it seemed. "The moon tried to have him join the four idiots." He nodded to the North Pole, where one particular fool thought he ruled.

Rin-Sama flicked a fan open to cover the lower half of her face. "Oh, my," she murmured. "I do not believe that would have gone over well."

"Oh no. We were almost rid of the little _rare_ -bit," the General drawled. "Alas, they chose _him_ over our despised lord and master."

"Such a pity," the Snow Queen sighed. "But come, there must be more."

"There is. Dear Jack has taken to the solitude of Antarctica, and has begun building himself a stronghold." General Winter breathed deep, and grinned. "Perhaps he has finally given up his patronage of those _humans_."

The Snow Queen diverted her attention momentarily to another small group of gossiping spirits. "-don't know if we're ever going to get him back," one ice goblin said, gleeful. "But I hope not!"

Rin-Sama smiled as she overheard another snippet of conversation. "I heard that the fortress is finished. He's all alone up there, locked away inside," one of her Yuki-Onna breathed. "Perhaps Herself will let us visit, he might want... company." She giggled and winked at one of her sisters.

"Oh! Yes, we must ask."

Rin-Sama shook her head. No, she would keep her younger sisters away from Jack Frost- but the thought of him all alone was _too_ delicious! She shivered in rare pleasure.

"I heard," one of the smaller Jotun said, speaking slowly, "that he never says a word."

"-hope he hasn't died," a Match Girl whispered to another of her ilk. They both blanched and scurried away when General Winter looked at them.

"A pity he hasn't," the General murmured to the two ladies.

"Oh, indeed," the Snow Queen replied. Rin-Sama nodded her agreement.

Wherever they went in the gathering, they heard the delicious whispering and repeating, over and over. "Something's up with Jack. Something's up with Jack."

It made the three of them laugh.

"So," General Winter said, once they'd completed their fourth ring around the gathering. "Did you two ladies hear what dear Pitch Black tried to do, this very Easter?"

"No!" They pressed closer. "Please," Rin-Sama breathed. "Tell us more."

So he did.

 

Once upon a time, not so very far away, a young boy lived with great power. Although he was born of winter, he was kind and caring. He loved the young children that played in the snow he brought them, and took delight in the simplest of things. But it was hard for the boy, as he was alone, unseen and walked through by the humans, and ignored by the spirits.

And then, one spring night, he broke down beneath a silent moon. How could he help children take joy in winter, when he found none there himself? He had no memories of his past, and when he slept he did not dream. He found no wonder in the places he traveled or the things he saw, and he had no hope that things might change.

His magic began to twist around him and the young boy acted instinctively. Instead of letting his rage and grief spread out over the world, he turned it inwards upon himself.

As a result, he was transformed, into a hideous beast. Ashamed and horrified of his monstrous appearance, he crafted a fortress for himself and hid away. He practiced his magic, and learnt how to influence the outside world, without ever leaving his new home.

Alone, a monster, the Ice Lord retreated into himself, becoming sullen, bitter, and unkind. He grew to despise those that had rejected him, and so turned his back upon the spirits of the world.

And as the years past, as he grew ever more alone and lonely, he fell into despair.

For who would want anything to do with him now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this fic CleverCorgi's birthday present, okay?
> 
> For relevant prompts, please look below:
> 
> [Prologue Dialog](http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/1511.html?thread=1310695#cmt1310695)  
> [Instigation of the plot](http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/2389.html?thread=5748565#cmt5748565)  
> [Thanksgiving Party](http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/2389.html?thread=5079893#cmt5079893%20)  
> [New Year's Party](http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/2389.html?thread=5256021#cmt5256021)  
> For Fanart, please look below:
> 
>  
> 
> [Done by Agito](http://agito87.tumblr.com/post/67503456831/i-just-finished-reading-chapter-16-of)  
> 


	2. Chapter One

One of these days he was going to sit North down, and force feed the man a calendar. No, better idea, he'd do that every year on January first, because Easter wasn't on a set date like Christmas was. So, calendar every year, because then maybe, just maybe, there was the slightest possible chance that North could theoretically conceive that Aster was _not_ in the mood to be awake, let alone traveling, _right now_.

It was two days after Easter and he _had_ been asleep. One of his golems had nudged him awake. Aster had seen the aurora- and bugger it all to hell and back! North was just a little too trigger happy with that thing, never mind it'd been a century since he'd last used it.

He'd eaten a handful of cocoa beans for energy, because there hadn't been time to make a proper brew of either coffee or tea, and headed off for the North Pole.

It had still taken him almost twice as long to make his way to North's Workshop, and that was including the spells he'd made part of his tunnels. Spells to shorten the distance and warp time, that had provided the base for North's snow globe portals- but without that disorienting feeling of having your stomach yanked up and out through your nose- and spells that had been the basis of Pookan travel since the First Light and dirt roads.

Aster didn't even have any energy to complain about the cold when he popped out in front of the Workshop. He shivered, hunched his shoulders, and trudged to the front door. It was only when the door-yeti let him in that he realized he didn't have his arm guards or bandolier. Oh, well. If he absolutely needed anything, he could always head back to the Warren... and _sleep_.

Sleep was _good_. He liked sleep. He did _not_ like hyper Russians with affected accents and an insane fondness for swords.

"Bunny! Good, you finally here." North held his arms out wide, as if he was expecting a hug.

Aster grunted at him, and found a good wall to prop up and not incidentally prop _him_ up.

It was two days after Easter and he was _tired_.

"What," he said, and looked around. Tooth stared at him with some concern, while Sandy looked considering. Aster pointed one finger at the stout little man. "Don't. 'M awake. I'll sleep later. I'd sleep _now_ , except North forgot the _date_."

"Date?" North mumbled. The old Russian's eyebrows furrowed together for a moment, forming a thick and incredibly bushy line over his eyebrows, and Aster maybe wanted to use North's eyebrows for paintbrushes. It'd be an interesting effect, except for the part where North's face would be attached.

North suddenly straightened up, and clapped his hands. "Oh, yes. It was just Easter! Why would you be sleeping, your day is over. Is not difficult task to put out eggs for children, you should not be tired. Come, Man in Moon has contacted us again!"

Aster grunted, and shoved away from the wall. He was too tired to argue right now. It didn't escape his notice though, that North looked disappointed at the lack of response. Well, bully to him. "This better not be about that rooting Jack bloody Frost again," he muttered.

"Bunny," Tooth chided. "None of that please."

He obediently clamped his lips shut on further complaints, and not only because of how Sandy was frowning and how disappointed Tooth looked. There wasn't much the four of them _really_ fought about, but Jack Frost was at the top of the list. A century ago, when Pitch had tried to take them out, the Man in the Moon had declared Jack Frost a new Guardian of Childhood. Aster had been smarting over the Blizzard of 1968, and had refused to allow it. If Jack Frost became a Guardian, he'd leave the fold.

The others had given in, Pitch had been knocked down, and Jack Frost...

Well, he'd vanished. Completely. There'd been a few whispers about him a few months after, and then nothing.

The very next winter, after the Guardianship didn't happen, the Snow Queen had whipped up a blizzard over Europe that had made the events of Easter '68 seem like a mild spring day. Back in '68, there'd only been something like a hundred odd deaths, all from people who'd had heart attacks from shoveling snow, or who'd ignored all common sense and driven too fast on icy roads. Schools had been closed and egg hunts hadn't happened, but all told... It hadn't been _too_ bad. Extremely aggravating and insulting, but Aster would've let up about it eventually. Maybe. After a century or two.

The blizzard of 2014, however, hadn't been nearly so benign. For one thing, the twenty-fourteen blizzard made the '68 blizzard seem _benign_.

From Ireland to Russia, all the way up in the Scandinavian countries to _Portugal_ , of all places, there had been three weeks of unrelenting snow. People had been unable to get out of their homes, entire cities had shut down from lack of power, people had frozen and starved and even a century later the history books weren't too clear on just what the exact death toll had been, other than in the low thousands.

The Guardians had gathered together to deal with the Snow Queen, and she'd subsided, but- well, General Winter was next, wreaking havoc in Russia. Then the Yuki-Onna in Japan, making it almost suicidal for young men to travel alone outside the cities in winter. And then the Wendigo in Northern Canada and Alaska came back from whatever rock they'd crawled under.

It was ten years after the twenty-fourteen blizzard happened when they'd finally gotten a hint. Sandy had found a little match girl, one of those poor souls from the Victorian era who froze to death selling matches. She'd told them "Jack Frost isn't stopping them anymore," and burst into tears.

Aster didn't know what the others thought, but he knew what he'd put his money on. Jack Frost had been some sort of mitigating influence on the other Winter Spirits, and after twenty-thirteen, he'd vanished. Whatever else he'd been said to have done- frozen water pipes so they'd burst, coated roads with ice, played any and every prank imaginable just to amuse himself- he'd never been said to hate humans. If he'd been around, he would've been stopping the other winter spirits.

They weren't being stopped. Therefore, Jack Frost was no longer around. Occam's razor.

Aster wasn't about to say Jack Frost's disappearance was entirely due to his not being initiated as a Guardian, but there was a tiny lump of guilt at the back of his mind that insisted there was a relation. And maybe there was. Maybe Jack Frost had been chosen not to help against Pitch, but to protect him from something else.

He looked out the window, not entirely comfortable with the turn his thoughts had taken. Normally he didn't think about Jack Frost. The winter spirits were behaving again, some new and powerful bloke going by the name _Ice Lord_ having taken control, but... But there were times, like now, that he couldn't help but remember.

"So." North gestured to the pillar the Moon used to communicate with them. An image was already there, already shaped out of moonbeams. It was of a fortress-type building, squat and forbidding in appearance. It was hard to tell with moonbeams, but the building looked to have been made of Ice. "Man in Moon wishes to speak with us about... the Ice Lord."

Aster rubbed one hand over his face. "The Ice Lord? What about him?" Odd they were talking about him; the bloke, regardless of his influence over the other winter spirits, kept himself to himself and was apparently more inhospitable than an angry volcano spirit.

Odd that Aster had been thinking about him, and the events that had led to his becoming the ruler of winter, just minutes before.

The moonbeam image began to change. Instead of the fortress, it showed the planet- and overshadowing the planet, a misshapen, intimidating, featureless figure that stretched one hand over the globe. Aster's mouth dropped open when 'ice' began to cover the 'planet'.

He wasn't the only one surprised. Sandy looked utterly flabbergasted, his sand making partial images that fell apart in his shock.

"But- but- an ice age?" Tooth looked from Aster, to Sandy, to North, and back. "We're not due another ice age."

"And this would be catastrophic ice age," North said. He brooded at the moonbeam image, which had gone back to the fortress. "We must stop the Ice Lord, one way or another."

Aster scrubbed at his eyes. "We can't take him out," he mumbled. "Snow Queen and her ilk will be at it again."

"We can't just let him freeze everything either," Tooth said in reply. "Maybe we can talk to him?"

"If he will listen," North said. Sandy nodded in agreement.

Well, true, winter spirits tended to the sadistic. It was entirely likely that the Ice Lord wouldn't listen to them, would in fact attack them, and then it'd be a matter of self defence.

Aster didn't quite like the plan, but then, it wasn't much of a plan. Show up, speak with the Ice Lord, and if he didn't give up his plans for turning the world into a giant ball of ice, stop him. By any means necessary, even if it meant the other winter spirits had free reign again.

He did insist on a mug of coffee and a quick stop in the Warren so he could gather his things.

And then, like it or not, he got in the rooting sleigh and gritted his teeth. It was time to speak with an Ice Lord.

The ice wyrm uncurled on the table, and reared back onto its last two sets of legs. It looked like a moving sculpture of purest crystal, a six legged Chinese dragon so cold it made even its creator shiver. When it spoke, its voice was thin and sibilant and not entirely audible.

_The land of ice called green suffers winter hunger. Storms make commerce impossible, and there are no food stores to last the cold._

The one called by everyone as the Ice Lord studied the ice wyrm. **_"What efforts are the humans making?"_** he asked, his once gentle and ever-laughing voice now deep and rough. Partly, the change was from speaking so rarely. He now horded his words as a miser did his money. Partly, the change was simply... a natural result of everything else.

_The land of eagles cannot reach the land of ice called green by land or sea. The metal wave-walkers risk drowning, and the metal birds cannot brave the winds. The land of maples is the same. The islands of the Picts suffer beneath the storm, and cannot extend aid. The others must rely on their metal birds._

The Ice Lord nodded slowly, and sat back in his throne. His elbows rested on the throne's arms, his hands clasped and lifted to his mouth. He brooded over the ice wyrm for several long minutes, but the creature was unaffected. Its blank and empty eyes did not blink, and it did not breathe. It did not move, as it was not a truly living creature.

No, the ice wyrm was a construct of his power, something he could send to assess the situation in the world outside, something that would _speak_ and drive a little of the loneliness away. But, not being a living creature, there was no guilt to be felt when he broke one in a temper.

**_"Who,"_** he finally said, **_"is behind the storm?"_**

_Loki._

Idiot Viking. Something would have to be done about him.

The Ice Lord jerked his horned head at the ice wyrm in dismissal, and turned to one of his messengers. The fire spirits used the phoenix elementals, constructs of fire that looked like a cross between swans and birds of paradise. The Ice Lord used something similar, though his phoenixes were, of course, made of ice.

So much ice, he thought, so much snow. He could rapidly grow to despise it all, if he hadn't come to hate his element and season a century before.

He chose an ice phoenix with a falcon shape, and touched one long finger to its forehead, between its eyes. He felt a faint tingle, and then the bird blinked and flexed its wings. There, it was ready. There was no need to give it orders; as his creation it knew everything it needed to. It would fly to Loki, and give the fool his message.

**_"Cease the storm currently plaguing the North Atlantic Ocean and Greenland. This is your_ ** **only _warning."_**

He waved one hand, and the only window in his entire fortress opened. The ice phoenix launched itself from his wrist, and arrowed through the tiny opening with ease. He closed the window with a second gesture, and returned to his throne.

He summoned another ice wyrm, and sent it after the ice phoenix to watch Loki's reaction. So far, no one had done anything less than comply with his demands. He had not had to enforce his authority in... Well, not since he'd retreated to his fortress.

The Ice Lord looked over at his globe. It was, as everything else in the fortress, made out of ice. It depicted the continents and islands of the world. It had been difficult adding the snow-dust that represented the weather patterns, but worth it. Now the globe spun around the circumference of the room and around its axis, tilted as the real world was so that the light source in the middle of the room provided an accurate night and day cycle. The globe rotated around the room and its axis at the same rate of speed of the real planet Earth.

With the globe, the Ice Lord was able to extend his power to any part of the world without being there himself. Currently it was 'three in the afternoon' by the globe's position. North America's east coast was experiencing evening and light cloud cover, while the west coast was in mid-afternoon and had heavy cloud cover. Antarctica was experiencing no clouds at all, and was in the middle of autumn.

Apart from Loki's little storm over the North Atlantic, everything was performing to expectations. His lips twisted into what might have, once, been a smile. Mother Nature hadn't had anything to complain about for the last ninety years. However interesting it had been to speak with another person, he had no desire for her to return.

Having other people around... hurt. In a way he didn't want to examine.

He snarled under his breath, and shoved up and away from his throne. The Ice Lord snatched up his staff and stalked out of the room. His creations could find him wherever he went, and he had no desire to brood over his globe for yet _more_ hours on end.

In the end, as he should have expected, he ended up in his library. There were many rooms in his fortress, created for show, not use. The library, however, was one of his favorite places. The media room was the other. Here, surrounded by books and with quiet music playing on the old fashioned music player he'd repaired and adapted, he could almost forget his solitude and the monster he'd become.

Almost. Because there was no way to forget entirely. Wherever he went, whatever he did, he was reminded every time he spoke, every time he looked at his hands, every time his heart beat.

He was reminded, he remembered, and he ached with the loss of things he no longer had words for.

The Ice Lord pulled his favorite book down off the shelf, gestured his music into life, and forced his attention to the written word. He would distract himself, for a few hours at least. It was all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have edited last chapter's notes, if you're interested to see list of prompts that have been involved in this story. Said list will be updated as relevant chapters are posted, and I'll be sure to let you know.
> 
> For the moment, expect updates to be every Friday.


	3. Chapter Two

Aster tugged his hat down over his forehead, and adjusted his scarf. His heavy coat was old but still warm, and still showed the insignias from the Lunar army. At least the stasis spells had worked on everything, because he didn't want to think what he'd be saddled with if he'd had to borrow winter gear from North.

He was the most bundled up out of everyone. Tooth had a coat cut specially to keep from fouling her wings, and North wore his old greatcoat and that stupid hat. Sandy alone seemed unaffected by the cold, but then, he _was_ made of sand.

Aster not only had his old, service issue coat, but a hat, a scarf, a pair of gloves and a pair of mittens over that, and heavy boots. The boots were annoying, but necessary. The last thing he wanted was to lose toes to frostbite.

North brought the sleigh down onto an open ice plain just in front of the ice fortress. He handed the reins over to the yeti he'd brought with him, one called 'Phil'. Even the yeti had a scarf on, wrapped over his mouth.

"We may need to retreat with speed," North said. "Be ready."

Phil nodded, and settled into the driver's seat. They disembarked, and for a long moment the four of them could do nothing but stare at the fortress' gates.

The protective walls were at least fifteen feet tall, Aster thought, stabbing upwards to twenty feet in places. No human could have built _these_ walls. Certainly, the fortress seemed to have grown in place on the side of the mountain, like an oddly shaped glacier. The walls looked like giant slabs had been tossed into more or less the right place, a few knocks to get them shaped properly, and then left there. And the gates...

The gates were open.

There was something very ominous about that.

"Come," North said, and drew one sabre. "Let's go."

Aster checked that he could draw either his kukri or his boomerangs, and followed. Tooth hovered near North's shoulder, her fingers over the hilt of her khandar. Sandy brought up the rear.

The courtyard was empty. There were heaps of snow, drifts of snow, and a path through the snow. That was it. Aster touched the hilt of his dagger, and shivered.

The fortress looked a lot like the walls. It was something like three stories tall, but the stories were bigger than he was used to seeing. The usual height for a building level was ten feet or so. Judging by the windows, it looked like the fortress stories were closer to fourteen or fifteen feet high per level.

There were not many windows, and the few they could see looked like angry, glaring eyes. The panes were made out of ice, and reflected the midnight sun's light. The 'blocks' that made up the wall, each one looking like someone had taken a boulder and knocked it more or less square, were almost as reflective as the ice.

The front doors looked like they were made out of giant slabs of ice, faintly blue. There were no handles, and both halves of the door rose to a center point some twelve feet up the wall.

North touched one half, and the doors swung open.

No, not ominous at all, Aster thought, and took a deep, steadying breath. Autumn in the Antarctic was still bitter cold, and the chill air bit at his throat and lungs.

They walked in. Aster half expected the doors to slam closed behind Sandy, but they didn't.

The ceiling was high overhead, this apparently the grand entry way and two entire stories. Some attempt had apparently been made at decoration; there were tables made out of opaque ice, and a staircase that dripped and flowed down from the second level. Icicles hung off the walls, and glowed faintly.

But the walls were just plain blocks, the seams clearly visible, and the floor was a faintly textured sheet of ice.

"Well," Tooth murmured. Her voice echoed around the huge room. "Where should we start?"

Sandy waved one hand, and formed an image of a- toilet? Aster frowned. "I don't think he'll be on the dunny," he said. "And I don't want to find him there if he is."

"No, no," Tooth said. "You mean the throne, don't you?" she asked Sandy.

The former wishing star nodded, and shook a chiding finger at Aster.

"Well what was I supposed to think? You put a toilet up there and expected me to guess _throne_?"

"Hush," North said. "Throne room. Where would throne room be here?"

Tooth took the lead. "This way," she said. "If he set his fortress up after the usual layout used in Europe, these would all be public rooms. And the throne room would be..." she hurried across the grand entrance hall to a hallway, and then tried several doors. They were spread out, giving a hint to the size of the rooms behind them. "Here," she said in triumph. "Oh!"

Oh? Good oh or bad oh? Aster hurried up to stand next to her, and realized he was gaping at the room beyond.

The throne room was a large circle, with a globe made out of ice along one edge. Bright swirls of what looked like clouds twinkled over the clouded-ice continents and the almost transparent-ice of the oceans. It took several looks, but Aster realized the globe was slowly turning on a tilted axis. A day-night cycle? And weather patterns... pretty...

But where were the glowing lights of believers? The globe was a piece of art, to be true, but the only light came from a large stalagmite of ice, glowing a little brighter than the icicles on the walls had out in the hallway and entrance.

The light-less globe made his fur itch, for a reason he couldn't quite pin down. He made himself look away.

There was a throne, which looked like someone had taken a few slabs of ice and shoved them into more or less the right shape. Much like the rest of the fortress, Aster thought. There was a table made out of ice in front of the throne, and enough room between the back curve of the room for the globe- did it spin around the room too? There was a stand made out of ice behind the throne, with several sculptures of predatory birds, each one perfect down to the last feather, each one made out of ice.

Aster moved closer to the throne, and discovered a little ice sculpture of a six-legged, Chinese dragon. It was just as perfect as the birds.

He'd bent over to study the little dragon closer, when he heard North speak.

"I wonder how this effect is done," the Russian mumbled.

Aster spun around, and sucked in a quick breath. "Maybe you shouldn't touch that-" he began.

Something rushed past him, too fast for a good look, and slapped North away from the globe. The old Russian literally flew through the air into the glowing stalagmite. The stalagmite shattered, and the room went dark.

Aster immediately jumped to North's side and pulled his dagger. Okay, they weren't alone. "Who's there?"

Someone- some _thing_ \- growled, low and angry. Aster swallowed hard. Some kind of animal? He wasn't too fond of fighting animals, it just felt wrong. You couldn't rationalize with a hungry wolf, you could only drive it off or kill it.

The growl continued, from the deepest shadows near where the globe was. Some light came in through the open door, from the hallway. A bright beam of it came down from a small window set high up in what had to be an exterior wall. Everything else was, unfortunately, shadows.

Blind fighting. He hated it with Pitch, and that hate transferred easily to this situation.

"Speak," Tooth demanded. "Or else-"

**_"What?"_ **

Aster tensed all over, and crouched down to make a smaller target. The voice- the growling- belonged to the same creature, no doubt about it. The voice was deep and harsh, and reminded him of wind off of glaciers.

He heard Tooth suck in a breath. "Tell me who you are!"

Another growl. **_"You_ demand _? Of_ me _?"_**

Tooth started to talk, but Aster reached over and found her wrist with a minimum of fumbling. "No," he hissed. "Don't set it off, sheila!"

**_"It?"_** The voice got a little louder. **_"_ It _?"_**

Oh, wait, no, the voice wasn't making the air shake. That was just Aster, trembling.

Sandy stepped forward, glowing faintly in the darkness, and began forming his sand shapes. The- whatever it was- apparently watched for a minute. Then it roared, and a dagger made from ice flew through Sandy's shapes and shattered against the wall.

Sandy staggered backwards, expression blurred. Tooth immediately moved between the growling creature and Sandy, though she couldn't have possibly seen anything.

"We've come to speak with the Ice Lord," she said. Her voice quavered, but only someone with Pookan hearing could have picked it up.

**_"Ice Lord,"_** the creature said. It rumbled, not quite a growl, and then Aster heard the faint sounds of movement. A shape, upright and huge, appeared between them and the dim light of the open door. **_"Me."_**

Oh, bloody, buggering hell.

Aster grabbed North's arm, and finally helped the man to his feet. North reached up- to adjust something, probably his hat- and then stepped forward. Aster remained behind him.

"You are the Ice Lord?" North asked. "Good. As Tooth said, we have come to speak with you."

The creature, the Ice Lord, snorted. **_"So, speak."_**

Aster heard North swallow. "Man in Moon-" he paused, because the Ice Lord growled loudly, almost like the prelude to a roar. The Ice Lord subsided, and North continued. "Man in Moon has given us warning of you. We are the Guardians of Children and the Earth. Whatever you plan, we _will_ stop. By any means necessary."

There was silence. Not even Aster's ears could pick up any sounds from the Ice Lord. It might have left, for all he knew, leaving them in the cold, dark room.

And then the Ice Lord roared, louder and angrier than before, and something went smash very loudly. Shards of ice hit Aster all along his side, blocked by his coat and boots but not by his fur. He bled from tiny cuts on his legs and cheek, though it wasn't much.

**_"He sent you to_** **kill _me?"_** The Ice Lord sounded enraged, but beneath the anger there was... hurt? Incredulity? Aster's breath caught in his throat at the emotion.

"We would prefer to talk," Tooth said. "Please. Won't you come into the light?"

Another long pause. Aster listened as hard as he could, but he couldn't make out anything but for the sound of his companions' breathing, and North shifting his weight ever so slightly, making his boots creak.

And then, he heard the almost deliberate clop of a hoof on ice. It drew his attention to the beam of light coming in from the window.

He looked down, and went utterly immobile at the sight of a large hoof. It was attached to a thick, hairy fetlock, which- the creature shifted its weight forward, bringing the rest of it into view- was attached to a muscular, equally hairy leg. The dark blue hair- the _fur_ \- continued up to the creature's waist, at least until the ragged leather loincloth hid the creature's groin and top of its thighs from view. At the waist the fur changed to skin, pale white and marred here and there by slightly darker scars. Aster noted the barrel chest, the broad shoulders, the arms that might have looked too long but for the bulging muscles, and the fingers tipped with short, sharp claws. He was nine feet tall if he was an inch, and due to all the muscles he looked _squat_.

And then he looked at the Ice Lord's face.

It was a broad, almost square face. The Ice Lord had thin lips, an almost flat nose, and Aster suspected the thick, heavy eyebrows were the next best thing to immobile. Ram-like horns rose up from the Ice Lord's forehead, and curled back over his head and then forward so the points were by his cheeks. He had a wild mane of hair the same shade as his fur that looked like it'd never been touched by a comb or brush.

Of course, once Aster looked at the Ice Lord's eyes, he wasn't able to look away. They were blue, a brilliant, intense shade that almost glowed. Flecks of white showed around his pupils, looking almost like snowflakes.

Aster had seen eyes like that before...

**_"Stared enough?"_** the Ice Lord asked, and spread his hands slightly. **_"Or care you to gawk some more?"_**

Aster blinked, and mentally shook off his terror and fascination. Every instinct he had screamed that this was a dangerous creature, worse than any Fearling, wild animal, or spirit he'd ever faced before. There was no way to stand up against the Ice Lord; it, he, _was_ winter, implacable and deadly. You could only run and hide.

And yet, underneath his instincts screaming at him to bolt, he had the oddest desire to find his sketchbook and a blue-lead pencil.

"Yes," North said, and stepped forward. North had always been crazy like that. "Now we can see you, we can talk."

The Ice Lord's lips twisted into something approximating a smile. **_"Ah, you require light for speech?"_** He gestured- and suddenly the ceiling was glowing enough to illuminate the room again.

Aster looked around, and felt his fur try to stand on end beneath his coat. The throne behind them had been picked up and thrown at the wall. It lay in tiny pieces, no doubt what had shattered earlier.

Tooth moved backward slightly, no doubt drawing the same conclusions Aster had. The Ice Lord had walked behind them, and they hadn't known. If the lights went out again- well, they'd just have to hope it didn't come down to a physical confrontation.

"Thank you," Tooth said.

The Ice Lord narrowed his eyes at her. **_"Talk."_**

North cleared his throat. "As I said, Man in Moon gave us warning of you."

The Ice Lord shifted his eyes so he was watching North, but there was no other response. Aster wasn't even sure if the Ice Lord was _breathing_.

"Man in Moon told us you planned to bring about new ice age all out of proper time. So." North didn't quite point his saber at the Ice Lord, but that certainly was the implication. "We are here to stop you."

The temperature abruptly plummeted ten degrees.

**_"Stop me,"_** the Ice Lord said. **_"By..._ any _means necessary."_**

"We really would prefer talk," Tooth said.

Oh, those eyebrows really were immobile. Although the way the Ice Lord twitched the muscle just over his eyelid, he managed a fair approximation of a scowl. **_"You believe I will kill everyone on the planet."_**

Well, yes.

The Ice Lord abruptly snarled, revealing teeth that reminded Aster abruptly of Pitch. **_"Ignorant fools!"_**

"Hoy!" Aster stepped forward, knife in hand. "Watch what you-"

The Ice Lord turned his full attention on the Pooka, and Aster stilled. He couldn't even breathe, it felt like. The rage in those eyes was matched only by the rage in the Ice Lord's voice.

**_"Is it not enough he doomed me to_** **this _?"_** The Ice Lord spread his hands, gesturing around him. **_"Is it not enough he has_ never _spoken to me? Is it not enough,"_** he said, and stepped forward, until he loomed over Aster. **_"That I did what he made me for, and controlled winter? Is it not enough I have only my duty? There is no wonder in my work, and nothing to dream. I have no memories I wish to revisit! And I cannot hope for anything better!_**

**_"I had no desire to kill anyone until_ ** **you _arrived._ Get out _!"_**

North seemed like he was ready to protest, but Tooth grabbed one arm and Sandy grabbed the other. Then they all bolted.

It couldn't have been coincidence that a blizzard hit just as they left through the front gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... You're getting two chapters this week, 'cause I'm celebrating. What, you might ask? Alas, not a job- but I finished the first draft of my original novel. I'm going to let it sit for the rest of October while I firm up the world building (which I might or might not have neglected in favor of just WRITING IT) and the plot (well, side plots) and then I'll be editing and working on the second draft for NaNoWriMo.
> 
> But I finished it!
> 
> ... And suddenly my joke of publishing a novel before I get a job is starting to look more like reality than humor. Hm.


	4. Chapter Three

The shakes didn't start until the blizzard did. The Ice Lord fell to his knees, his hands, lowered his head and gasped and shook until he had to fall over onto his side and curl up into a foetal position.

People. There had been _people_ here. He'd _spoken_ to them.

Terror, rage, and worn out grief tangled together in his mind. People, so hurtful- they'd wanted to _kill_ him- people, so rude- just marching into _his_ fortress like they owned the place- people, so warm- and he was so _cold_ \- people, so loud, so talkative, so alive and he _hated_ it, hated it all, hated _them_! How dare they? _How dare they_? He'd _kill_ them, every last stinking one of them, tear them to shreds and freeze the pieces and they would suffer, he'd _make_ them _suffer_ before they died!

How _dare_ they look upon him! _When he was like this_!

The Ice Lord gasped, and covered his face with his hands. His eyes _burned_ from all the colors. His ears _ached_ from all the noise. His mind whirled in circles, throwing image after image upon his mental wall, images he shied away from. He didn't want to kill _he did he did_ he'd done this to himself because he refused to hurt anyone _what's the point no one ever saw him or spoke to him except to be **angry**_ but he would _not kill_.

He rolled over onto his back, violent and sudden, and slapped his hands palms down onto the ice. **_"I am the_ Ice Lord _!"_** His voice echoed, echoed around the room, overpowering the echoes in his head. **_"And I_ do not _kill!"_**

And just to make sure he didn't... He rolled over and began dragging himself towards the stairs down into the dungeon. There were no other people around, but he was too dangerous to be allowed free for the moment all the same.

"Well." Aster draped his coat over the back of his chair, and then dropped his hat onto the table. "That went well."

He got one glare, one thoughtful look, and one exasperated expression for his trouble. Phil was just impossible to read at the moment, between the long fur and Aster's own exhaustion.

"We weren't hurt," Tooth pointed out. She, too, draped her coat over the back of her chair.

"No, but we sure can't go back there, either!" Aster rubbed his face with one hand, and slumped over in his seat. "Do we even know Manny meant the _Ice Lord_ was the bloke looking to freeze the planet?"

And why hadn't that thought occurred to him before?

North opened his mouth, one finger lifted as though to offer a crushing counter-point that would end the argument- and paused. "No," he said finally. "Only image of Ice Lord's fortress, then a shape turning world into snowball."

Aster groaned, and let his head fall down onto the table. "So you're saying we went off half-cocked and maybe alienated an ally against a potential world-freezing monster?" El-Ahrairah, what was he supposed to do when he was this tired and unable to _think_?

He needed sleep. Or coffee. Or maybe a little bit of chocolate, not enough for the full six arms but good for a jolt of pure energy.

Someone set a mug down by his face. He felt the heat radiating from it on his eyebrows. And smelt fake chocolate.

Oh, there _was_ a beneficent god out there somewhere. Aster lifted his head, blew on the hot liquid, and sipped carefully. It was that awful fake powder stuff, with just a little bit of the real chocolate mixed in, enough that he'd be jittering and manic in a minute or two.

North eyed the mug with alarm. "Chocolate, Bunny?"

"I need it." He took a larger drink, and hissed when he scalded his tongue.

Sandy waved his hands, and pointed at the golden image of the moon over his head. And then a question mark. And then an old fashioned clock with its hands spinning rapidly in circles.

"How do you interrogate the Moon?" Tooth asked.

North sniffed, and turned for the door. "You yell. Very loudly. Coming Sandy?"

Aster nodded several times and looked around. "Anyone got a sketchbook? And I need a pencil. Blue lead, but it has to be the right shade. You, Phil! I need a sketchbook!"

He concentrated on the delicate work of the eye. He still couldn't shake off how familiar they'd looked. When was the last time he'd seen blue eyes with flecks of white in them?

"Bunny, why is my office covered in balls of paper?"

"Rack off, North, I'm busy."

Such sad eyes, too. Not that he'd noticed at the time, too busy shaking at the rage, but under the anger there'd been grief. He shaded the eye a little darker, which made the white flecks stand out in the drawing. They'd stood out when he'd looked into the real thing, too.

And the _hair_. It was a glorious tangle that curled around his face and neck. Bloody difficult to get down on paper properly.

"How many pencils have you gone through?"

"Rack. _Off_."

The shading was a challenge. He'd only seen him standing in the harsh light coming in through the window, or the gentler, dimmer light from the ceiling. And while the hair and fur had looked almost black in both lighting types, his skin had _glowed_. Of course drawing that just made it look like an amateur's work with no idea of light sources and shadows.

"Man in Moon has spoken with us again. About Ice Lord." North paused. "Who you apparently have been drawing quite obsessively."

Aster huffed, and set his pencil carefully aside. It was the fifth- or maybe the fifteenth, now that he thought about it- and already down to a little nub.

"At least I'm not organizing your breakfast eggs. Does this look right to you?" He held up the unfinished drawing.

"Yes, is very good drawing. Come, we have rest of meeting now." North grabbed Aster by the arm and pulled. "No more pictures of Ice Lord scattered about my office, thank you _very_ much."

Aster hissed, and clutched the sketchbook to his chest. Very carefully, since he didn't want the lines to smudge. "They weren't any good. This one might be, if I could possibly finish it. Except you interrupted me."

"Meeting. Drawings can happen later."

"I was in the zone!"

North just rolled his eyes. Aster chittered at him. It had no effect, and wasn't that annoying? Well, he didn't like looking at the Russian anyways. He checked on his sketch. Good, no smudging- but he was _certain_ he'd seen those eyes before.

He was all but shoved into his seat, but it meant he hadn't had to pay attention to where he was going, so he wasn't too upset about it. Steering would have just been too annoying when he had to assess the sketch and make sure it was up to standards.

"Sandy, I've seen these eyes before." He tilted the sketchbook towards the sandman. "Where?"

Sandy looked, shook his head, and shrugged. Aster grunted, and studied his work again.

He had the face and down to the shoulders outlined, though there wasn't much room for anything more. Still, only the upper half of the head had any real detail to it, so there was a great deal more work he had to put into it. But the eyes- oh, he'd done very well with those, this time. Even a half-blind, picky art critic would have approved of the eyes. They looked wrong even so, far too somber when they were the color and shape meant for amusement and good natured laughter.

"That's it!" he snapped, and stood up so fast his chair toppled over backwards. "That's where I've seen those eyes before!"

"Bunny, North was talking."

Aster waved one hand in the air. "Yes, yes, very important I'm sure. Jack Frost had eyes like that!"

The three all looked shocked. "Impossible," North finally said. "Jack Frost was human... wasn't he?"

Tooth shrugged, and even Sandy looked uncertain. Hadn't any of them ever spoken with Frost before? Up until the blizzard of '68, Aster had been all but tripping over the bastard on his infrequent, non-egg hunt visits up on the surface.

"He was human," he said. Though he couldn't quite remember what the prankster had looked like. Hadn't there been a hood of some type, at least half the time? Or maybe a hat, he remembered something about a hat. Hadn't he thrown it in a lake? "And he had eyes like this, blue with white flecks in them. Looked like snowflakes."

"Well, the Ice Lord isn't human," Tooth pointed out. "And- and my girls always told me Jack Frost's teeth were as white as freshly fallen snow! The Ice Lord..." She shivered. "Well, I didn't get a good look at them, and they weren't yellow, but they weren't anything like _new_ snow."

"And, too, Jack Frost was good natured trickster, not angry snow beast," North said. "But Sandy, what do you think?"

Sandy tapped his chin several times, and gestured for the sketch.

"Careful with it," Aster said, and passed the sketchbook over.

Sandy was almost as careful with the sketch as Aster would have been. He pursed his lips and peered at the sketch, he bent forwards so he could look at the eyes closely and then held the sketch out so he saw them from far away- well, sort of far away, his arms were fairly short after all. Finally he handed the sketch back, and shook his head.

"It must be a trait some winter spirits have, then," Tooth said. "Sorry, Bunny."

"It's fine." Probably for the best, really. Aster didn't want to think about what it'd take for a human spirit to be turned into... something very much _inhuman_.

He was a shapechanger, it was _easy_ for him. And not painful, either.

He shook his head and carefully set the sketch down on the table. "What were you saying, North?" he asked, as he righted his chair.

"Hrmph, not listening to any word I say, I see. Well, I will start again for silly Bunny obsessing over eyes."

"They kept nagging at me by looking familiar."

North shook his head. "So. Sandy, Tooth and I spoke with Moon. Manny was... less than helpful."

Aster raised one eyebrow in silent question.

"North tried to interrogate the moonbeams," Tooth said. The Sahara was drier than her voice, but not by much. "Sandy had the best luck, I think."

Sandy nodded, and folded his hands in front of him on the table. The first thing he showed them was the Ice Lord in golden miniature. Most of the intimidation was gone, of course, but then no one and nothing ever looked frightening when Sandy showed their images. An inevitable effect of using dreamsand, that.

The image changed, and the Ice Lord was joined by a Pitch figure. Which was promptly punched in the nose, Aster was amused to see. But then another spirit- he wasn't sure who or what, but it looked like an autumn creature- appeared, and was also chased off. There was a succession of spirits after that, some kinds that preyed on humans, some that went after other spirits, and some that were so _good_ they made Aster's teeth ache just thinking about them.

The Ice Lord image stood alone, again, and began to fold in on itself. First the image went down on one knee, and then hands and knees, and stared 'upwards' with an agonized expression. Or as agonized an expression as Sandy could make, but Aster was used to making such allowances. Finally, the Ice Lord image faded away, and the sands reformed into that of a skull and crossbones.

Death.

"This is what Manny told you?" North asked.

Sandy nodded, and then made a face. He wagged his hand in a gesture Aster took to mean 'it was unclear, this is my best guess'.

"So." North hit his palm with a fist. "Ice Lord is vital to running of winter, and keeping Snow Queen and her ilk under control. But alone something- did Manny say what? No? Pity- something will kill him. It must be soon, if Manny is warning us."

"Oh," Tooth whispered. "Oh, and we came in like that, threatening him- how are we supposed to talk to him _now_?"

"Persistently," North said. "We made bad first impression, true, but we cannot allow that to matter. At _very_ least, we must preserve status quo of winter."

"At least?" Aster murmured.

"Да. Didn't you hear speech? Perhaps the Ice Lord was being the dramatic, chewing the scenery as Americans say, but no wonder? No memories or dreams, no hope?" North shook his head. "We have a duty, as Guardians and spirits, to help him."

"Whether he wants help or not," Tooth said, her wings buzzing faintly. "He needs it."

Aster looked down at the sketch, and touched the corner of the page with one finger. It wasn't only for the Ice Lord, he decided. He'd been the last person to see Jack Frost, much as he hated to admit it. Or even think about it, really. It was only right that he found out what'd happened to the bastard. And there was no harm in asking.

"Alright," he said. "How do we want to do this?"

Tooth shook her head. "I can't spend every night visiting the Ice Lord," she said. "My girls need me too much."

Sandy nodded, and formed several images of sleeping children.

"So, what about this," North said. "We visit the Ice Lord once a week, and we each take turns. I go next week, Tooth the week after, Sandy after Tooth, and then Bunny, and then we repeat."

"Why're you first?" Not that Aster really wanted to speak with the Ice Lord again so soon. His toes had only just thawed out.

And it had nothing at all to do with the way he'd frozen in terror. In the name of the Prince with a Thousand Enemies, what sort of Pooka was he to do that? Still, a little time to meditate, paint some eggs, and maybe prepare a dose of diluted chocolate would only help.

"Ah, is just order the Ice Lord mentioned. Wonder, memories, dreams, and hope." North's eyes twinkled. "And you are tired little bunny after Easter, and must want to catch up with your sleep, hm?"

Sleep didn't sound too bad. Aster nodded agreement, and did his best to ignore North's look of shock. "Fine. Give me a reminder when it's my turn to go, I'm tired enough I might forget." He collected his sketchbook, his winter gear, and was surprised at the door when Phil pressed a box of pencils into his hands. The leads were the right shade of blue when he checked, and there had to be about fifty of them.

"Thanks, Phil," he said. "Sorry if I yelled earlier." He did that sometimes, when in an artistic frenzy.

Phil shook his head, and waved Aster out towards the front door.

He barely noticed the cold as he hurried over to the ridge of honest rock and stone that'd open a tunnel for him back to the warmth of the Warren. He didn't notice the time it took to walk through the tunnels instead of running, burdened as he was with his things. He barely noticed actually reaching his home, paying only enough attention to put everything away properly and leave the sketchbook and pencils out on his kitchen table.

Aster tumbled into bed, and managed to stay awake just long enough to pull the light covers up over his shoulders. He didn't need the blankets for warmth; he just had never slept well without being able to curl up under something warm and soft.

To sleep was to dream. And if he dreamt of laughing blue eyes with snowflakes in them that turned teary and ran away, and of enraged blue eyes with snowflakes in them and all the grief of a heart-broken soul...

There wasn't anyone to tell, and he wouldn't have said anything even if there were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, technically not Friday- but I'm celebrating, okay? I've got a temporary job that's a) in my field, b) pays pretty good considering how little experience I've got and it being temporary, and c) it's going to be at least one month, possibly up to three, which means over the Christmas season and I can buy my family presents now! Yay! (Also commission some art for my stories, but details.)
> 
> So have a chapter now. Friday's scheduled post will be shoved to the weekend. You're welcome!


	5. Chapter Four

He had regained control of his mind and his emotions after several days. The repairs to his throne room took much less time. The disruption to his routine was irksome, but now that it was over he set it behind him, in the past where it belonged, and returned to his duty.

Always the duty. It was the only thing he lived for now. What was the point in instigating a snowball war when the children complained of being cold and wet the moment it ended? When he couldn't properly participate? And what did he care if the 'slopes' weren't covered in the right kind of snow? It kept the mortal fools off the mountains, and away from avalanches.

Winter was best spent indoors, where the Ice Lord's wretched subjects couldn't get at them. Really, he was doing them all a _favor_.

Not that he was ever _thanked_ for it, the ingrates.

He watched his globe, as solemn as a statue and almost as unmoving. If he could have done away with breathing, he would have. It was a useless activity, after all.

A sound intruded upon his solitude.

The Ice Lord looked away from his globe. Now and then, chunks of ice broke off the sides of his fortress. Occasionally he needed to make repairs. But that had not sounded like icicles falling free and shattering upon the ground. No, that had sounded like a _footstep_.

His eyes narrowed, and he watched the doorway, all his attention focused on that one task.

He heard the latch click before the door swung open. The old man from before stood framed in the doorway for a long moment, his eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other. No doubt he was taking in the repairs the Ice Lord had made. The light source in the center of the room, the throne- and the large, blue and white demon seated on the throne.

It was almost tempting to chuckle at the expression on the old man's face when he realized Jack had been sitting there the entire time.

Instead, he stared at the man, unblinking, his breathing shallow enough that only the most observant would see his chest rise and fall.

"Ah, hello." The old man pulled his hat off his head. A sign of respect. Good.

"My name is Nicholas St. North." He moved several steps forward into the room. "I came to apologize for last visit. Further questioning of the Moon suggested you were not the threat, but at risk from the threat."

The Ice Lord made no reply. The ceaseless staring seemed to be getting on the man's nerves. How long before he broke?

The old man swallowed, but continued. "We made mistake. I," he said, and blushed, "Made mistake. I was the one to insist we go off without further information. It was wrong. And I am sorry."

What a pretty little speech. Why was he making it?

The old man shifted his weight from foot to foot, and fidgeted with the fur hat in his hand. "Are you going to say anything?"

Oh. That.

The Ice Lord lifted one hand, the sudden motion making the old man jump.

Then he threw the ice dagger.

He would give the old man this; he had good reflexes. He ducked just before getting a blade through the eye. And he showed good sense, too. He didn't wait around for a second dagger, just ran through the door and- the Ice Lord checked, watching through his ice- all the way to a strange contraption pulled by four reindeer.

He turned his attention back to his globe, and concentrated his attention on the representation of Antarctica. In seconds he heard the wail of an angry wind, and felt the pellets of snow hitting the walls with bruising force.

It took a moment's concentration to close both the front and throne doors. If the old man survived the blizzard- well, the Ice Lord didn't care. But he doubted he'd see the man again.

"Hello?"

The Ice Lord looked up from the table in shock, the ice wyrm falling silent. The bird woman stood in the doorway, looking nervous.

As well she might. The Ice Lord frowned at her. She was not welcome here.

"I came to apologize. I know North stopped by already, but- I would like to talk to you. My name's Toothiana, but my friends call me Tooth." She smiled. Her teeth were very white, straight and even. "You can, too?"

He was not so ill-mannered as to gape at her like a bumpkin, but- why? Why was she here? Talking to him?

"Oh, and I saw your teeth be- ah, before. They're quite... different! Yes. Different is a good word." She didn't walk, but flew, fragile wings beating the air furiously. "They don't give you pain, do they? Because normally when they're shaped like- that- they've been broken. Here, I can check-" And she darted forwards, hands reaching for his face.

He reacted instinctively, recoiling back and snarling. His eyes were very wide. He felt his face twisting into more emotion than he normally showed.

Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he lifted one hand and summoned a wind. It blew her backwards, nearly into the far wall. Away from him.

She stopped where she was, staring at him. He stared back.

**_"Get out,"_** he said.

She left.

It took him a long while to remember what he'd been doing before she interrupted him.

To his shame, it took him several hours to realize the small man of sand was in the castle. The man was silent, apparently uninterested or unwilling to talk. He floated. And the golden glow about him was subtle and did not extend very far from his body.

The Ice Lord only caught him when the man started to follow him into the hallway. He spun, and the man of sand grinned and waved at him.

The Ice Lord half closed his eyes, and sent a gust of wind, edged with ice, at the man.

He got the message and left.

He was almost expecting it when the fourth one, the rabbit that walked like a man, showed up.

The rabbit was bundled up as the first time the Ice Lord had seen it. Truthfully, _this_ one showed more sense than the others. The Antarctic was cold and his fortress colder. It was no place for those without the common sense to wrap a scarf around their face and wear gloves on their hands.

He did wonder if those boots were uncomfortable, or if they had been made especially for oversized feet.

"'Ello," he said, his voice thick with some sort of accent. The old man had an accent too, a thicker- but different- one.

Why would a rabbit have an accent?

The Ice Lord stared at him, elbows on the arms of his throne, hands folded with his chin braced against them. What would this one do?

... It was almost disturbing, how quickly he had adjusted to his solitude, his privacy, being violated.

"The others have made their stops, and it's about time I did too." The rabbit pulled its hat off, and its long ears stood up at attention. "Came to say I'm sorry. Popping up like we did for a fight wasn't right."

Ah, just what the others- apart from the man of sand- had said. The Ice Lord began to shift his attention cautiously away. There was a storm brewing in the tropics he wanted to keep an eye on. It was colder than it should have been, for the season and the area.

"An' a proper apology should have one of these." The rabbit walked across the room and set a small box down on the table. The Ice Lord froze, staring at it. The box had been wrapped with pale green and silver paper, and then tied with a darker green bow. It was small, the size of his palm or a little smaller, and- what was it for?

He looked up from the box at the rabbit, and had no idea just what expression he had. He didn't even know what he was feeling! Because- because-

"It's for you," the rabbit said softly. "Go on. Open it, let me know if you like it. If not-" he shrugged. "I can always make you something else, maybe. Different flavors or something."

His hands _trembled_ when he reached out to take the box.

He tugged on the end of the ribbon, and the bow collapsed. The ribbon was a silken thing, and he couldn't feel any weight when he held it in one hand. The paper came off without tearing, and he set both the paper and the ribbon aside on the table.

Then he lifted the box lid.

Chocolates, he realized, and picked one up. It looked to have been topped with- what was that? Powdered sugar? Icing? White chocolate? The underside was dark, as he expected chocolate to look like, but the top was white. The piece was in the shape of a snowflake, as were all the other pieces.

"It's a praline," the rabbit said. "Made from a Belgian recipe. Well, a perfected recipe. The humans are good, but I've been at this longer than their entire culture."

Chocolate. The rabbit had given him chocolate?

"Try it," the rabbit urged. "Tell me what you think, if it's any good or..."

He looked up at the rabbit, and back down at the chocolate.

And then he placed it on his tongue.

It had been a very long time since he'd last eaten. He couldn't even remember it. But the _chocolate_ \- it melted on his tongue, on _his_ tongue, and the taste- there were no words.

**_"It is good,"_** he said, when he had control over his voice again.

"I'm glad," the rabbit said, and smiled.

The Ice Lord didn't notice when the rabbit left. He was too busy staring at the small box of chocolates, and too busy trying to sort through the emotions surging through him.

The old man stepped through the door.

The Ice Lord threw the throne at him.

The old man walked right back out the door.

"-and have you ever _seen_ such an advanced case of gingivitis? It's horrible! Children today, you'd think they'd never heard of oral care. Oh, but this one, she's a sweet little thing, wants to be an actress when she grows up and she takes _such_ care of her entire mouth! Look, she lost this incisor just last night, isn't it so _cute_? There's still blood and gum on the root!"

**_"Get out."_ **

"Oh, but I haven't even told you about the-"

**_"No. No more. Get out. Now!"_ **

That was the last time he tried to ignore the bird woman.

There was something about watching the man of sand try to play with the ice phoenixes. It was sad, really- but his lips wanted to curve upwards at the corners anyways.

The Ice Lord didn't let his expression change. He had always hated being laughed at. He wouldn't do that even to these people, who broke his concentration and brought noise and color to his fortress.

He shouldn't have been surprised the rabbit came back. The Ice Lord watched through his ice as the rabbit stepped through a hole in the air, hunched its shoulders against the cold wind, and entered the courtyard. He watched as the rabbit entered the fortress, and walked down the hall.

He stopped watching when the rabbit reached the door to the throne room, and arranged himself into a position of unconcern.

The empty box that had held the chocolates was on the table. The paper and ribbon, however, he had hidden away in his library. He would give them back if the rabbit asked- but then, if the rabbit didn't ask, there was nothing stopping him from keeping them, now was there?

"'ello again," the rabbit said, and this time pulled off both hats and gloves. He only had four digits on each hand; three fingers and a thumb. The Ice lord flexed his own hand, with its four fingers and thumb. How very strange.

The rabbit didn't seem concerned at his lack of response, and simply crossed the room to pick up the empty box. "You liked them, then?"

That required an answer. He inclined his head, that being suitable agreement.

"Well, good." Conversation faltered at that point, the rabbit's whiskers twitching as the silence lengthened. The Ice Lord was used to the silence, true, but not when there was another individual standing there, watching him. He stifled the urge to shift in his seat. He had no cause to feel uncomfortable.

"I wondered how you managed the globe," the rabbit said finally, and nodded at the construction. "That's weather in real time on there?"

**_"Yes,"_** he said, relieved for no reason he could imagine. **_"It is ice."_** And then he could have cursed himself, because of course it was ice.

"Be a mite bit tricky to copy the effect, then. I work with the earth, the plants." The rabbit moved to study the globe closely, though it didn't touch. Wise. The Ice Lord would not have tolerated _that_ level of disrespect.

There was nothing he could say to that observation, so he remained silent. The rabbit voiced several other, quiet observations about the globe. Nothing he had to respond to. He could simply listen, and watch the shadows on gray fur, and the occasional flash of green eyes.

When the rabbit left... No. He did not miss the company. He _did not_.

They would soon cease to come back. It was best he did not get used to them. And certainly not attached.

He impressed the thought into his mind, and then turned his attention to wrecking an ice storm over Northern Siberia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, another chapter! (Thanksgiving Weekend for us Canucks, so...)
> 
> Guardians be visiting the Ice Lord! This... can't possibly go wrong, can it?


	6. Chapter Five

This time they met in one of the cozier sitting rooms. Aster slumped over in a ratty old wingback, with a patchwork of solid red and green plaid upholstery. There was bit of the original leather on the back, all that remained of the old chair's former glory. He had a mug of spiced cider, the last of the previous year's pressing, and savored it with small sips. In a month apples would be ripe and picked, and then there'd be fresh cider and apple pies, turnovers and Dutch Apple French Toast to enjoy. Aster would have to remember to bring some of that cider to the Ice Lord.

Gifts of food had turned out to work very well. Aster, remembering that first gift, the taste of chocolate that had made the Ice Lord's cheeks flush and his eyes flutter closed in pleasure, had brought some tester chocolates on his third visit. That, too, had been a very good reaction; the Ice Lord had showed some cautious pleasure at the sight of the box, and Aster was fairly certain he hadn't imagined that faint smile when he'd seen the different varieties of chocolate.

The four of them had met up to compare notes, and Aster had shared his success. After that, the others began bringing small gifts of food with them.

North brought cookies and candy canes. Tooth preferred mints and blends of tea; and probably included a toothbrush and floss with every gift, Aster thought. Sandy had fumbled a bit- being made out of sand meant taste was something of a foreign concept to him- before settling on gifts of eggnog and cotton candy, things Sandy himself loved.

Aster liked to bring a variety of things. Chocolate was special, was meant to be savored, not taken for granted. So he'd bring other things, like fresh cherries and pears, apple peels fried in honey, cordial and favorite teas- and soon, cider.

He stretched out his legs, and let his toes warm close to the fire.

"This is nice," Tooth said. She was curled up like a contented cat on her own chair, and watched the fire with sleepy eyes. "Gathering together. Why haven't we done this before?"

"We got distracted," Aster offered. "Too caught up in our own affairs."

North sat down in his chair, and toed off his boots. His socks were an interesting patchwork of different yarn colors. At least his feet didn't smell.

"Maybe the rabbit has had many affairs," he said, "but I am Santa. Too busy for such things."

"Ha. Hah." Aster leaned his head back and closed his eyes. North had had more lady friends than Aster'd had partners of either gender. There were times being the alien equivalent of an anthromorphic rabbit was something of a hindrance, and romance was at the top of the list. His age didn't help much either. One reason why he kept it so quiet was how intimidated people got when they found out, as if being older than the planet made him smarter or more powerful or something.

Those spirits that _were_ willing to have a relationship with him came in two types- the ones that had a thing for 'animals', and the ones who wanted a quick roll in the hay for the presumed novelty and status of it. He obviously wanted nothing to do with the first type; what they wanted from _him_ was a cross between one of those bondage submissive types that would do whatever they said, and a sex toy. They had no care for his pleasure, certainly didn't want conversation- _animals_ didn't talk, after all- and wouldn't know the meaning of the term monogamy if it was tattooed to their foreheads.

As for the second type- he'd slept with a few of the blokes and sheilas of that opinion, a ways back, but it had never lasted more than two or three encounters. And he'd felt so _used_. As though his only value was in his skill between the sheets that mattered, and the rest of him was unimportant.

Small wonder that he'd chosen celibacy over any more such encounters. Strangely enough he had a reputation for an enthusiastic lover, even though he knew for a fact that the Gods and Goddesses of Ur, the ones he'd tumbled, had faded out yonks before.

And of course, thanks to his age, the current crop of spirits just felt so young to him. They seemed obsessed with trivial matters and whirlwind relationships. He certainly didn't know most of them, not enough to like or dislike them. The Groundhog was special, that particular worthy having gone out of his way to aggravate Aster. But for most of the current spirits, Aster couldn't have named half of them, or recognized a third of their faces.

"So," North said, breaking through Aster's train of thought. "Gathering is nice, but perhaps business first?"

Sandy drifted forwards, looking more than half asleep and curled up on a cloud of dream sand. Aster didn't believe that appearance for a second, but then he'd known Sandy the longest. He'd seen the former wishing star go from 'dead asleep' to 'kicking ass' in less than a second, many times.

Sandy did sleep, but never out in the open. He did fake it very well, and it helped make him seem like a harmless soft touch. Aster could be the ancient warrior; Sandy would go for comforting and absentminded.

"So," North said, and clapped his hands. "I think Ice Lord is feeling better about me. I can stay for all of half an hour before things are thrown at my head."

Aster covered his mouth with one hand, to hide the sudden grin. "You're still being chased out?"

North glared at him. "What of it? I admitted most responsibility for disaster of first meeting. Most of anger therefore fell on me."

True, but... the mental image was actually rather funny. Aster was sure the Ice Lord never aimed to harm North. He couldn't have said why he felt that way, but he'd have bet a few pints of blood on it.

"Does he throw snowballs at you?" Tooth asked. Her eyes gleamed and danced with restrained amusement. She gestured over at Sandy, who had a golden, miniature Ice Lord chasing an equally golden, miniature North. The Ice Lord threw what had to be snowballs, the way they 'splattered' on North's coat.

"Hrmph. No. Balls of ice." North's eyes gleamed as well. "Though perhaps one day it will be the snowballs."

Aster couldn't help it. He snorted in amusement, and looked away until he had control over his expression again.

Tooth and Sandy both grinned at him, and even North's lip was quirked up in amusement. Aster raised one eyebrow at them, and they tamed their expressions somewhat.

"Well, I've been able to spend a few hours at a time with him," Tooth said, and smirked at North. "He even let me look at his teeth!"

"Good on ya, then," Aster said. "They're apples?"

Tooth gave him an odd look. "No, Bunny, they're- oh, you mean apples as in good. Yes, they're very good, not broken at all. I worried, you know, with how pointed they are, but apparently that's just how his mouth is. They're quite white, like chips of ice..." She sighed, and shook her head. "He did tell me that if I ever poked my fingers in his mouth again he'd bite them off, but I think he's just shy."

Sandy showed an image of himself, and what looked like a bird of some kind. The bird swooped around Sandy, hovered, and then flew over to land on the Ice Lord's wrist. Once it touched the Ice Lord- Aster had no idea how Sandy managed the effect- it 'froze' and was apparently put back into a cupboard full of other 'frozen' birds.

Aster shrugged one shoulder when the others looked at him. "We've been talking magic," he said. For someone so young- the Ice Lord had only been about for a little under a century- he knew quite a bit about some more obscure spells. Granted, he'd obviously specialized in cold and ice, and most of what he knew had been adapted for that, but he'd had a few tricks up his proverbial sleeve that _Aster_ hadn't known.

Talking with the Ice Lord was... interesting, for lack of a better word. His voice was deep and rich, with a heavy overtone of snarling. Even when he wasn't angry, he sounded like he was seconds from yelling. He never used more words than he absolutely had to; there were times when Aster realized he'd been monologging at the Ice Lord, simply from lack of answer or reaction.

Yet when the Ice Lord did speak, he did so with intelligence and a subtle kind of wit. He didn't spare _anyone_ from his cutting observations, not Aster, not the other Guardians, not the other winter spirits, and certainly not himself.

Aster quite enjoyed their conversations, even if he did leave half frozen and had to use one of North's snow globes to get back to his Warren. It wasn't possible to reach the earth from above the Antarctic's permanent glaciers.

North looked put out. Aster raised his eyebrows.

"What's wrong mate, come a gutser?"

The Russian looked up, and snorted. "Sometimes I think you are making up the phrases for as much confusion as possible."

"Oy, you talk that gabble all the time." Besides, he was _Australian_. Making up new slang, or bringing back old, was practically the national pastime.

"True, I speak the Russian when English fails, but I do not make up words!"

"Your own fault for not speaking Strine."

"О, пойти дунуть она вне носа, кролик." North waved it off, and smiled at Tooth and Sandy when they came in. "How are the two of you?"

"Oh, we're fine," Tooth said, and Sandy nodded. "But you look upset, what's wrong?"

North pinched the bridge of his nose. "I tried to teach Ice Lord how to make the ice sculptures."

Aster raised his eyebrows. "And? He should be good at it, everything he's got is made of-"

"He cheated!"

Sandy had a giant question mark. Which was pretty much how Aster felt, actually.

North looked at them. "I brought all my best carving tools with me, and showed him preliminary methods for making the sculptures. Did not think he'd have a problem, but when it was his turn to put lesson in practice, he held one hand out over that little table, and- and ice just formed! Became perfect statue of man and woman dancing together-" North paused, and gestured to a side table. Aster wandered over to take a gander. "And they moved, too!"

"North," Tooth said. "He is the Ice Lord. It must be his magic."

The statue was very well done, Aster thought. Just as perfect as the Chinese dragons and the ice birds. The woman wore an old fashioned ball gown- he couldn't remember if that style had been late sixteenth or late seventeenth century- and the man wore an equally old fashioned costume. He touched the woman's skirts- and suddenly the statue was moving, twirling around in a three step waltz.

Aster looked over at where North was trying to complain to Tooth and Sandy, and chuckled. "Oy," he called. "Are yeh upset that the show pony outdid you, or that someone gave Santa a prezzie?"

North spluttered incoherent denials.

Sandy had a small peregrine falcon, made out of ice, perched on one wrist.

He offered no explanations. They couldn't quite bring themselves to ask for one.

Aster was relieved that their next meeting, the falcon was gone. He wasn't sure what to make of the six legged Chinese dragon that'd taken its place, though.

Aster stuck his head in through the open door. "I can't stay long," he said. "I'll see you all after Easter. One of you cover my visit with the Ice Lord?"

"Bunny?" Tooth's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean you won't be visiting?"

"No time." No time for _this_ visit, it felt like. "I already told him."

"Oh, well," North said. "Alright. Go on then."

Aster nodded, and turned right back around and headed out. He had eggs to paint and a holiday to prepare for. And while he looked forward to his yearly task with the usual excitement, anticipation, and determination...

A part of him regretted he'd miss three visits with the Ice Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Since I have no patience (and a large number of buffer chapters) I've decided to switch to posting twice a week. Friday always, Tuesday or Wednesday depending on how impatient I get. So yeah! Enjoy!
> 
> That and I really, really want to get you guys to chapter eight. It has been CleverCorgi approved for the amount of _feels_ stuffed into such a short chapter. (Also will you guys be my writing buddies for November- National Novel Writing Month? I'll be posting a pre-written story, one chapter a week, with my word count. There must be bribes and threats so I'll meet my goal each week!)


	7. Chapter Six

He was growing soft.

It was an uncomfortable thought. He was the Ice Lord, the most feared winter spirit. The monster that lurked in the shadows, the cold unknown that kept even the terrible trio from misbehaving. If they found out he was growing _soft_...

It was those four, the _Guardians_. The Ice Lord narrowed his eyes in thought. Ever since the Guardians began visiting him, he had been- distracted. No longer did he focus entirely on his duty. He had _conversations_. He even _played games_. The man of sand- the bird-woman, Tooth, called him 'Sandy'- enjoyed chasing and being chased by the Ice Lord's creations, the ice wyrms and ice phoenixes. It was amusing- and _that wasn't the point_!

He snarled and pushed up off his throne. Pacing had never appealed to him, it being a pointless expenditure of energy best used otherwise, and yet now he circled the circumference of his throne room time and time again.

They just would not go away and _stay_ away, that was the problem. They were going to do it sooner or later. Why not now? Why go to the pretense of- of invading his privacy one at a time, every week, when they would lose interest and stop coming? Why get him used to company, to conversation, to not being alone if they were only going to take it all away?

The Ice Lord looked around his throne room. This was the _Fortress of Solitude_. Solitude meant being _alone_. Couldn't they understand that?

His throat was tight for no reason he could understand or imagine.

It just wasn't _fair_.

Seconds passed, minutes, before he realized he'd fallen to his knees and was clawing at the inside of his elbow. He made himself stop. There could be no more attempts; Mother Nature had been _very_ clear about that. He had a _duty_ , and if he failed in it for even a _minute_ she would be... most displeased. Her appearance ninety years ago had made the follow up visit from Pitch Black seem like nothing in comparison.

The Ice Lord paused, and looked down at the ground. Actually, now that he thought about it...

Had he ever let Pitch Black out of the dungeon?

It was easy enough to check. He got up and looked into the polished surface of the tabletop. The image that appeared was of the dungeon, empty. So he had let Pitch Black out, because there was certainly no way for the _Nightmare King_ (of all the stupid, useless titles) to escape. There were no shadows in the Ice Lord's dungeon, not when the floor, walls, ceiling, and bars all glowed barely brighter than moonlight. There was no escaping through the doors, considering there weren't any. Openings formed at the Ice Lord's will, and the ice was too thick and hard to cut through.

Perhaps the screaming had annoyed him enough to toss the creature outside. That must have been it; he thought he remembered something about screams, at any rate.

He was used to his memories fading and turning to wisps that vanished without his notice. It was, he suspected, the only reason he was sane now. He could recall a few things, vaguely, but he rather suspected anything more than a decade ago was... gone.

As there was nothing he particularly cared to remember, it was not as upsetting as another person might have thought.

He dismissed the image in the ice, and sat back down on his throne. His hands wanted to shake; he didn't let them. It had been... close, that moment, and the tender skin inside his elbow still hurt from how he had torn at it. Well, he amended. Tender compared to the rest of his hide. There were only a few places where he could draw blood from himself, such as the insides of his arms, his stomach, his throat, and the insides of his thighs. Everywhere else, all he got were blunt knives made of ice and bruises that faded in hours.

Not that any of it mattered. No, the blood he shed would have to be drawn by others, not him. And it was immaterial at any rate. His duty required he stay alive for as long as possible, no matter how painful it was for him.

It would be easier if the Guardians would just go away.

**_"Faugh,"_** he said. **_"Guardians. For such_ wonderful _protectors they certainly never did_ me _any good."_**

He was talking to himself. That was something he vaguely recalled doing before, when he'd been weak. When he'd been so _desperate_ and _emotional_. He even thought he remembered... something about a blizzard? And being yelled at, but- the memory slipped from his grasp before he could remember much more than that.

This had not been happening before the Guardians, he knew that! The sooner they stopped visiting, the better. He would return to how things had been, and he would no longer be bothered by these _feelings_ , or scraps of _memories_.

The Ice Lord rested his chin on his folded hands and considered his globe. It was very nearly in the position it had been when the Guardians had first invaded his fortress.

Had it been a year already?

He had let this nonsense go on for a full year?

The Ice Lord raked through his recent memories, and his mouth parted as he realized how much time had passed, how frequently the Guardians had visited. Oh, granted, the visits had been singularly, and thus each Guardian spent roughly a month between visits- but for him, at one encounter a week...

_Madness_.

He should have put a stop to it long before now.

But how? By now the Guardians were used to just waltzing in whenever they felt like it.

He got an idea. It was... possible, certainly, though it would be difficult. The trick was in his speed. He couldn't give the Guardians any time to compare notes. And he would have to verify just where _they_ lived. See how _they_ liked _their_ privacy invaded.

The Ice Lord began to smile, and summoned four of his ice wyrms.

The hardest part was stepping outside. The Ice Lord did so, on occasion; he preferred to make his repairs to the walls in person, instead of willing the ice to form from inside. But he had never before stepped out past the outer wall.

Certainly never with the intent to _leave_.

He stood for what could have been minutes, and could have been hours, staring out at the Antarctic tundra. Finally, he forced one foot to move- and then the other. And then he was outside, and could look at the exterior of his walls for the first time since they'd gone up.

They looked much the same as that same first time. He had been desperate, his only thought to get away and hide from the monster he had become. In the first few months, he... he...

He could not remember.

The Ice Lord snarled at himself. It did not _matter_ if he could remember or not. What mattered, now, was driving the Guardians away so he stopped _weakening_.

And to do that, he had to travel.

He certainly could not _walk_ to their homes. There were countless miles and several oceans in the way. So. That meant... flying.

The Ice Lord looked down at his staff. He no longer used it much; usually he kept it in the library where it was out of the way. The old thing was still useful for things that were not _entirely_ to do with ice and snow.

Like flight.

Which he really should get started on.

The Ice Lord swallowed, and lifted the staff. He felt the air stir, as first a breeze, and then a hard gust tore at his pelt and the scant loincloth he wore to protect what little modesty he had left. His mane tangled even more, not that he particularly cared about _that_.

**_"Wind!"_** he called, and felt the answering force press on him. He had never been certain if the wind was an entity of its own, or if he had some small power over the elemental force that was directed by his words.

Whichever it was, the gust strengthened to a gale, and then- he could not have said if he was blown off his feet, or lifted. Perhaps an obscure mixture of both. It took him several tries to sort himself out, and it was a good thing there was nothing in the area to fly into.

Once he'd gotten sorted out, he mentally urged the wind to greater speeds, and the ground beneath flashed by. And then he was out over the ocean, the water below no shade of blue _he_ recognized. It was rather more akin to a dark gray, with each wave edged in white.

It was lovely, but he suspected it would be rather boring in short order.

Sadly, he was correct.

The North Pole was not as difficult to get into as he'd believed. The chaos of the lower levels was not matched by a similar activity above, in what he deduced were the living quarters. They were rather expansive- he found five full bathrooms while wandering around, and only one of those rooms had been smaller than his throne room. That one was also the only one where he would not have been able to stretch all the way out in the bathtub. Further, he rather suspected there were more bathrooms tucked away somewhere.

So very strange... The man St. North had not _seemed_ overly obsessed with his personal hygiene...

The Ice Lord did find what he was looking for, both rooms in fact, and got set up. He had arrived very late at night, disregarding the polar sun's usual nonsense. It was pathetically easy to set up a chair and settle down at Santa Claus' very bedside.

His only worry was that the chair might collapse under his weight. It had not been made for nine foot tall, overly muscular monsters after all. Yet it held, and barely creaked in protest when he got settled.

Keeping the mug of coffee hot was a greater challenge. He _could_ do it; it was simply an inverse of his usual efforts, which involved removing the heat from something. It was simply harder. Heat was energy, and cold was the absence of that energy. To keep something warm, he had to use his own strength. A single mug was negligible, thankfully.

The Ice Lord took several deep breaths, and then proceeded to stare at the slumbering St. North, with his most disturbing grin in place. His cheeks and jaw began to ache from how fiercely he showed his teeth, but he didn't relent for a second.

St. North began to stir not long after, while he still had feeling in his face. Whether being stared at had made his unconscious mind uncomfortable, or if he had simply slept out, it didn't matter. The old man rolled over so he was facing the Ice Lord, opened his eyes, blinked-

And promptly recoiled so violently he fell off the other side of the bed. The oversized bed that made king-sized mattresses seem small.

**_"Good morning, Nicholas!"_** the Ice Lord chirped. **_"It is a beautiful day, the sun is- of course- shining and I brought you coffee."_** He held out the steaming mug with a smaller, but no less fierce, grin. **_"This has been your morning heart attack. You're welcome."_**

The old man cursed, his words incomprehensible and likely in some language other than English. After some flailing, he managed to stand up, looking very rumpled. The Ice Lord noticed the man wore red and white fleece pajamas to bed. Were the polar bears meant to guard his sleep from bad dreams?

"What _is_ this?" North demanded.

He also took the coffee mug.

The Ice Lord stood up to his full height. **_"Now you know what it feels like,"_** he said, and headed back out.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the very confused yeti he passed in the hallway.

He had decided to visit in the order the Guardians did, so his next stop was where the bird-woman, Tooth, lived.

It was both easier and harder to sneak into the bird-woman's living quarters. There were so many miniature bird-women, flitting back and forth almost too fast for the eye to see. The wind dropped him on one of the palace terraces, and in less than a breath he was surrounded by creatures the size of his _thumb_ , every one staring at him.

He almost froze them. He'd lifted his staff in one hand, and drawn the power- but then he stopped himself. These tiny little things must belong to the bird-woman. He wanted to dissuade her from returning, not enrage her. Destroying her creations was not the way to go.

**_"Hello,"_** he said, and smiled. The little creatures- one actually dropped out of the air. He caught it, and pressed his lips tightly together. Were his teeth really that bad?

Almost the same moment he did, several of the tiny things swarmed his face, and he felt tiny hands pry at his lips. Trying to get them open?

He carefully waved them away, and huffed. **_"I am here to see the Tooth Fairy,"_** he said. The little things were shivering and staring at his mouth. Why? **_"She has visited me often. It is only fair to return the favor."_**

The creatures all whirled and began squeaking at each other. The one perched carefully on the palm of his hand flew up and joined them. He could only stare, bemused, as they seemed to come to some sort of decision. Most of them flew away, returning to whatever it was they had been doing before his arrival. One remained.

It flew at his face, and hovered at eye level, chirping. Then it flew away, down a hallway.

The Ice Lord shrugged mentally, and followed the creature. **_"Is your lady asleep?"_** he asked.

The little creature seemed to nod, and he squinted, trying to see it better. As if in response, it began bobbing up and down instead. **_"Ah,"_** he said. **_"I only have a short time I can stay here-"_** he waved one hand in a vague gesture at their surroundings. **_"It is rather warm, and I am better suited to the cold."_**

Why was he talking to the little thing? Oh, no matter. Nor did it matter that he'd just lied; heat harmed him no more than cold did, save making his ice take more effort and will.

He paused, as though in thought. **_"Perhaps I could bring your lady a mug of tea or coffee? I simply have a quick message, but it_ is _one I must give her personally."_**

The little creature seemed to consider that, and then bobbed up and down almost frantically. It guided him to a rough kitchen, and walked him through the preparation of what seemed to be tea. It certainly wasn't coffee, though it was almost as dark in color.

Then the little fairy led him to her mistress' chamber. At his quiet request, the creature did let him enter alone, and flew out of easy hearing range. It helped that there was no door to the bedroom, he suspected. Even if the creature could not hear anything, it could watch and make sure he didn't get up to any shenanigans.

He could not sit down beside the bed, so he loomed over it instead. And since he did not want to wait for the bird-woman to wake on her own- after all, he _had_ said he had little tolerance for the heat- he extended a quick brush of frost over her feathered shoulder.

She stirred, and woke up. It took her a moment to look up at him, and by then he had his face arranged in the manic grin he had used on North.

The bird-woman screamed, and scrambled back into a corner.

**_"Tea?"_** he offered.

"You- you- what was _that_? Why would you _do_ that?"

The Ice Lord mocked a raised eyebrow. He set the cup of tea on what appeared to be a dresser. **_"I thought you might enjoy knowing what it felt like. Good day, lady Tooth."_** He bowed his head, and then sauntered back out. He had a man of sand to visit next.

Sandy had no kitchen. After a moment's consideration, the Ice Lord summoned one of his ice phoenixes and sent it to the nearest human settlement for an energy drink of some kind. It came back with a strange, plastic pouch in its claws. According to the highly stylized writing on it, the drink was called 'Jolt'. Or possibly 'Cash', the writing was very difficult to interpret.

He shrugged, and dismissed the ice phoenix. Then he entered the Sandman's domain.

It was far simpler than the other two dwellings he had so far visited, and certainly more so than his own. It was made out of sand; he iced the sand-floor beneath his hooves with every step, mostly unintentionally. It just seemed so _unstable_. His powers acted upon his unease without his conscious direction.

There were a limited number of rooms, each one leading to the next, like a string of beads. The bedroom was at the very back. The man of sand was curled up on a floating cloud of his golden namesake, apparently deeply at rest.

The Ice Lord settled in to wait.

As with St. North, he did not have to wait overly long. Perhaps it was the staring? At any rate, the Sandman's reaction was every bit as panicked as the Ice Lord could have wished.

Twin whips of golden sand lashed out at him. The Ice Lord lifted his staff in one hand, and both whips froze and shattered before they could touch him. He gave Sandy his best unimpressed look, and held out the energy drink.

**_"And here I was going to give you this."_ **

Well, how about that. When the man of sand got angry, 'steam' shot out of his ears. The Ice Lord smirked.

The Sandman pointed at the Ice Lord, glowering, with a large question mark over his head. The Ice Lord gave him the energy drink.

**_"Now you know how it feels,"_** he said, and turned to go.

He froze the third, annoyed whip on automatic.

The rabbit's home was strange. It was beneath the land the Ice Lord was fairly certain was called Australia- his ice wyrms called it 'land of kangaroos'- with some open air accesses to the land above. Despite Australia's aridity, the caverns far beneath were anything but, lush and green and- was that river made out of _paint_?

And large, stone eggs wandered everywhere on what appeared to be spindly legs. The Ice Lord froze them before they could interfere, and wandered about, looking for where the rabbit slept.

Finally, annoyed, he summoned an ice wyrm and had it guide him to the rabbit's bed.

The rabbit had curled up in a grassy depression. The Ice Lord doubted it was the creature's usual place of rest- the creature was using a rock as a pillow, and even _he_ knew that wasn't comfortable- but perhaps the rabbit had been too tired to go much further.

The Ice Lord sighed, and looked at the ice wyrm. He had not dismissed it yet, and the creature's ambient chill had frozen the grass around it.

_There is a dwelling place beyond the next two hills._ The ice wyrm seemed to regard the rabbit. _There are places to properly rest there._

The Ice Lord waited, but the creature did not say anything else. Then he realized he'd actually expected his creation to _volunteer_ an _opinion_.

Ridiculous. The construct could no more volunteer an opinion than he could be seen by mortals. It had given him information, nothing more. What he did with that information was up to him.

Well... He huffed, and knelt down. The rabbit did not stir when he eased his arms beneath the creature's shoulders and knees. He draped over the Ice Lord's arms like wet laundry, entirely limp and dead to the world.

**_"Lead me there,"_** he told the ice wyrm. The creation lifted into the air and began floating in what had to be the right direction.

Why was the rabbit so tired? He considered the situation as he walked. The rabbit had not visited the last three rounds of visitations, having said something about preparing for- a holiday? Easter, wasn't it? His short term memory was still reliable, he rather thought he had it correct. As St. North tended to Christmas, the rabbit tended to the springtide holiday of Easter.

He cudgelled his poor memory into giving up a few details. Something about painted eggs, and a fluffy bunny rabbit that hid them for children to find?

He looked down at the rabbit, and realized he was smiling faintly. Well, the rabbit did call himself 'Bunny'. And the eggs being painted did explain that strange river- oh, and the pool of liquid glitter, too.

Hadn't there been something else? He had stopped listening after the rabbit had said he would not be visiting, yet his ears hadn't stopped working. Something about being 'busier than a centipede on a hot plate' and 'have to recover'.

There were a great many children in the world that went on the egg hunts. The rabbit had worked hard in preparation, and now that the holiday was over he had collapsed. Well enough, and a reasonable explanation.

The ice wyrm lead the Ice Lord to an odd house carved into the side of the cavern, through several rooms and into a room that, at the very least, had a large depression filled with many pillows and blankets. The Ice Lord lowered the rabbit to the cushy surface, dismissed the ice wyrm, and returned to the kitchen.

He prepared the coffee, though the rabbit's kitchen was somewhat more old fashioned than St. North's. His hands knew how to prep the wood fired stove, though, and how to use the mortar and pestle to grind the coffee beans. He used an old, coffee stained cloth to strain the grinds, and carried the final product back to the room, and the slumbering rabbit.

Despite the rabbit's exhaustion, he did wake after several hours of being stared at. The Ice Lord grinned wider, eyes gleaming as tired green eyes locked onto him.

The rabbit blinked several times. The Ice Lord waited for the recoil, the horror.

The rabbit looked down at the coffee mug, a sudden hunger creating a mad light in his eyes. Before the Ice Lord knew quite what had happened, the rabbit had grabbed the mug and was sucking down the coffee.

The rabbit only put the mug down when it was completely empty. He grabbed the Ice Lord's hand, his grin somewhat vague, his eyes staring over the Ice Lord's shoulder.

"T'anks, mate," the rabbit said, his accent so thick as to be incomprehensible. "Needed tha'."

Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

He hadn't let go of the Ice Lord's hand, either.

The Ice Lord gaped at the back of the rabbit's head, before finally shaking his surprise off. He tried to free his hand, but the rabbit had a strong grip.

**_"That,"_** he said, **_"was not how you were supposed to react."_**

The rabbit didn't twitch, but he did grunt sleepily.

Then he nuzzled the Ice Lord's trapped fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am absolutely not counting down to the chapter of gut-punch feels. No. Not at all. (Next Friday.) Also, Jack, I don't think you understand how interpersonal interaction properly works. (And someone make Werewolf Jack back off- Assassin Jack is next.)


	8. Chapter Seven

"I think it's a good sign," Aster said. He kept his amusement under wraps. The others wouldn't see the humor. He could break down and laugh once he was back in his Warren.

"A- how can this be _good_?" North asked. "Sign was very rude!"

"Well, instead of us initiating the interactions, he did." Aster spread his hands. "If we were talking one of the wild critters I know, I'd be seriously considering a party to celebrate." Not that he'd want to tame down a dingo or one of Australia's many venomous snakes. He liked his life, thanks, and most wildlife in Australia thought of rabbits and rabbit-shaped-Pooka to be _dinner_.

"Well, he's not a wild animal, and he shouldn't act like one," Tooth snapped. "Thanks to his visit my girls haven't been able to concentrate at all! It's all 'his teeth this' and 'his voice that' and Canada got _pesos_ instead of dollars last night. Again!"

Aster hid a smirk behind the rim of his coffee mug.

Sandy raised one eyebrow, and Aster translated the rush of images as 'but surely they believe strongly now'.

"Well, yes," Tooth admitted. "But that's not the point! He was in my _bedroom_."

"He was in all our bedrooms," Aster pointed out.

"He got past my yeti!" North grumbled.

"And he froze my sentinels. What's your point?"

North jabbed a finger in Aster's direction. "You did not wake up terrified!"

"No." Aster assumed a serene expression. "He gave me coffee."

The old Russian actually growled, though without the proper vocal chords the sounds was less than frightening. Aster unbent enough to laugh in his face.

"Bunny," Tooth scolded, and Sandy shook a chiding finger at him.

"What? He's just cranky someone got past his security."

North hit the table, lightly, for him. "And you are not upset? Your own security-"

"Was frozen in pillars of ice. It'll be decades before the moss all grows back, and I'll be replacing rusty gears for longer." Aster shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. "I still think it's a good thing."

Tooth sighed, and pinched the bridge of her throat. "Well, the rest of us need to talk to the Ice Lord. What he did was rude, and mean, and _cruel_. After everything... I haven't been able to _sleep_ since his visit, Bunny."

Aster did frown at that. It'd been two weeks since the Ice Lord had visited him. Apparently, from what everyone had said, the Ice Lord had visited them all in something like three days, maybe four. They'd waited for the Pooka to be fully awake before calling the conference. They hadn't visited the Ice Lord either.

He didn't like that thought. He'd lived a long time, watched a lot of people. He knew how fragile the soul-sick and healing could be. The Ice Lord didn't need space, he needed reassurance. Like an upset child, the Ice Lord would lash out at the source of his confusion, get angry; unlike an upset child, the Ice Lord was an adult and had a formidable intellect and a great deal of power at his disposal.

"So he needs good manners explained to him," Aster finally said. "Not like we were the best examples, just barging in ourselves. How many times did _we_ wake him up?"

"That's different," North mumbled.

"Why? Because Manny told us to?"

Sandy wilted. Tooth stared at the table. And North looked away.

Aster leaned forward. "Look. We'll go to the Ice Lord, we'll explain that you're all upset about what he did, and why, and we'll apologize ourselves. But there's no sense in going down there and having a blue with him. He's stronger than we are." That and they were no longer being sent off with blizzards. No need to risk that changing. "A calm, reasoned argument will make more sense to him than emotions right now, I guarantee it."

"You're right," Tooth said, and looked up. "He's right," she told North and Sandy. "Let's get bundled up and go. All together."

Aster nodded, and stood up. This would be interesting, he thought, as he headed for the coat closet. It'd been a year since the four of them had all visited the Ice Lord together. He wondered how the bloke would react.

There had been no visits for two weeks now, and he was pleased.

He was.

If he had taken to standing by the front entrance, watching the snow swirl beyond the gates, it had nothing to do with the Guardians.

It was simply a change of scenery, that was all. He was enjoying his icy paradise. There was no other reason for him to watch the skies for a flying sled, or listen for sadly familiar voices.

He had finally driven them off. If only he had known sooner. He could have been rid of them after the very first visit.

The Ice Lord bowed his head. Perhaps he had, after all, gone too far. They would fear him now, the Guardians. He had not only invaded their homes, but their most personal rooms. He had shown them their vulnerability, and no one appreciated that. He had wanted to be left alone, true, but... not feared.

_Never_ feared. Why else would he hide himself away?

He turned and went back inside. The doors were left open. The cold did not bother him, those rare times he noticed it. The Guardians would not come. And no one else would visit, to talk _or_ fight. Not even the terrible trio would willingly beard _this_ dragon in his den.

Sometimes he wished they would. That General Winter, the Snow Queen, and that Yuki-Onna leader would kill him, so he could pass the mantle on to someone else and... Just be done with it.

General Winter, he thought. If only so he could punish one of his enemies. But no, the ruling of winter itself was too much of a headache for anyone sane to want it. Clearly, his enemies let him be, knowing his position was a unique torment that they did not want for themselves.

They were smart, but he already knew that.

The Ice Lord sat down on his throne. There was work to do. By the swirling clouds on his globe, there were several out of season storms threatening North America and the Orient. He knew there was a proper name for the string of islands that belonged to the slant-eyed fox women, just as he knew he'd once longed to touch one particular fox woman's hand. He remembered the cherry blossom he'd preserved with his ice with special clarity, but he couldn't remember the woman's rejection. Perhaps that was for the best. He had still _cared_ , then.

He sighed, and forced his wandering mind to task. The storms threatening the Land of the Rising Sun, he supposed. There were three cells crossing the ocean, to the one threatening North America. And he remembered a cherry blossom, and exotic, golden eyes.

It took effort to break the forces that created and directed the storms. These were not sent by spirits, he realized. There was a difference between what spirits imposed upon the world, and what formed naturally. He usually left the natural weather alone, but he was committed now. He would be exhausted from meddling, but all things had a price. He would pay the cost, without complaint.

He had shattered two of the storms when a sound caught his attention. The Ice Lord drew his power back from the third storm, back from the globe, and looked around.

For a moment he could only stare, because what stood in the center of his throne room was impossible. The four Guardians kept the central light source between he and they, but that was a question of manners. His poor eyesight wasn't up to deciphering expressions hidden by shadows, and after he had said so to the rabbit, they had all taken to keeping their features well lit.

He blinked, and resettled himself on his throne. **_"What?"_** he asked, careful not to let any emotion taint his speech.

St. North stepped forward, closer to the light source. "We want to talk with you," he said. "About your visits to our homes."

Ah. The Ice Lord chuckled, and smiled to himself. **_"And here I thought you had decided to be sensible. That you had decided to stay away, and not push yourself where you are unwanted. And yet, here you are. Again."_**

They looked surprised at that, or at least, he thought they did. He didn't much care to decipher their expressions on a usual day.

"Well, mate," the rabbit said. "We all have a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock, so to speak. Of course we're back."

That was it. He was calling the rabbit 'kangaroo' from now on.

"Did you scare us just so we'd stop visiting?" the bird-woman asked.

The Ice Lord stiffened. He _had_ frightened them. Which had been his intent, of course, they just wouldn't stay _away_ -

But she sounded so _sad_.

He looked away from the bird-woman's large, pleading eyes. Words, which came with difficulty to his tongue, failed him utterly.

So what if he had?

The oversized Russian sighed. "Ice Lord..." he trailed off and shook his head. Then he turned to the rabbit- no, the _kangaroo_. " _You_ thought it was funny, _you_ talk to him."

What? The Ice Lord raised one eyebrow, as best as he could. He didn't bother restraining his surprise. The ra- kangaroo had thought his ploy _funny_?

"It was," the kangaroo muttered. He eyed the Ice Lord, and stepped forward to take St. North's place. "Mind you, it'll be an age before my sentinels are fit for duty again. And it wasn't very polite to sneak up on us in our beds. But it was a fair turnaround of what we've been doing to you." The kangaroo waved one hand around, gesturing to the fortress.

The Ice Lord blinked again, and scowled. **_"I do not want you here. I never have."_**

"No?" The kangaroo smiled. "Then why'd you leave the front door open?"

The Ice Lord opened his mouth to reply, and found he couldn't. His treacherous tongue would not give shape to the words his betraying mouth would not voice. He finally looked away, and folded his arms. He was sulking, acting the child, and could not even bring himself to care.

**_"You people are a fungus,"_** he muttered.

 Three of the four Guardians bristled, as was only proper, and looked ready to argue.

The fourth... snickered.

Stupid kangaroo.

"Take it that means we're growing on you?" the kangaroo asked.

The Ice Lord harrumphed in reply.

The conversation was going well, Aster decided. The others had apparently voted him the leader of the conversation without telling him, but then he seemed to have the best relationship with the Ice Lord. He had no idea why, but he'd take advantage while he had it. They still didn't know why, exactly, Manny had sent them to the Ice Lord, for one thing, and for another... Well, what sane person would leave the Ice Lord to his misery? The bloke was a grump, but he had a few good reasons on hand.

And he was an intelligent conversationalist, with a breadth of knowledge Aster hadn't encountered in anyone else. Even North, Tooth, and Sandy, some of the smartest people he knew, could be very focused. The Ice Lord, in comparison, apparently studied anything and everything that caught his attention, from old Roman battle tactics to weather patterns- although that last was part of the job, it seemed.

"We're not going to stop visiting all together," Aster said quietly. The Ice Lord appeared to be looking away, but there was a glimmer of vivid blue at the corner of his eye. Aster was being watched, and he knew it. "I can't promise we won't occasionally skip a visit, because I can't see the future and things _happen_. But I can tell you that we'll _try_."

He stopped, and cleared his throat. "And it'd be appreciated if you didn't show up in our bedrooms again. Bad enough to have a surprise visitor when we've not done a cleaning, but what if we'd left the dirty laundry out?"

The Ice Lord made a sound that might have been a huff, or a sigh, or just a heavier breath than normal. **_"Very well,"_** he grumbled, his words growled instead of spoken. **_"There wasn't anything in your personal rooms I was interested in anyways."_**

Aster pressed a hand to his chest and spoke before any of the others could. "Direct hit to the heart," he said, and grinned. "You're not very nice."

**_"Will you go away?"_ **

"No."

The Ice Lord actually looked mournful- playing along? Must be. **_"A pity. I had plans for a grand ball once you all had departed."_**

Aster blinked, stunned stupid at the joke, the actual, honest to goodness _joke_. Thankfully Tooth took up the slack, giggling.

"Oh, we can behave at a party. And _some_ of us can actually dance, even if Bunny has two left feet."

The Ice Lord eyed her strangely, looking as if he didn't quite know what to say next. It gave Aster enough time to collect his thoughts and composure. "Technically sheila, I've got two right feet too," he said, and smirked.

Aster stepped back, while the other three moved forward and traded a few more quiet jokes with the Ice Lord. Nothing big- North expounded on the fine clothing he could wear, Tooth mocked North's dancing ability, and Sandy asked for fireworks. The Ice Lord didn't talk much, his contribution limited to a word here and there, but he watched the three teasing Guardians with intent interest.

This was _very_ good, Aster decided. The others seemed to have calmed down over the invasion of their privacy, the Ice Lord was in the best mood Aster had seen so far, and no one had yelled or thrown furniture.

The teasing wound down, as was only inevitable. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it wasn't the sort of thing that made Aster feel at home.

Well, he thought, and stepped forward again. It was now or never. "Ice Lord?"

**_"What?"_ **

Well, he didn't sound annoyed. Or no more than usual. "I- I've got a question, if you don't mind."

The Ice Lord narrowed his eyes, but gestured for him to continue.

"I was wondering... I knew a bloke, a winter spirit, a handful of decades back. He vanished."

**_"Killed, most likely,"_** the Ice Lord said. He looked away, at a blank section of wall. **_"The three spirits directly beneath me in rank and power enjoy killing."_**

Right. The Snow Queen, General Winter, and the head Yuki-Onna, Rin-Sama. "But, would you know for sure? Jack Frost-"

The Ice Lord's head snapped around, and Aster about bit the tip of his tongue off when he snapped his mouth shut.

The air temperature dropped, fast. Ice spread from the Ice Lord's throne, a fresh, jagged layer that covered the floor and everything else it touched. The stuff circled the Guardians, and forced them together in a tight clump. Aster moved a touch too slowly from surprise, and a stalagmite of ice cut into his lower calf. His blood felt very warm, but the first drops to hit the floor froze.

**_"You_ dare _ask me about Jack Frost?"_** the Ice Lord hissed, sounding so much more dangerous than anything Aster had ever heard before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello my ducks, enjoy the cliffhanger because it's three more days (technically, I guess?) before I post the next chapter and you find out what happens next. Now I cackle at you. -cackles- See?
> 
> Also, in other news, Werewolf-Jack has a plot and story titles (trilogy) and Assassins Jack doesn't. Is this a sign?
> 
> Also-also, I would like to make a complaint! We can't change font styles in AO3 (yet) so Mother Nature's voice in chapter seventeen is... not the way I want it to look. Sad. Very sad I am, yes...


	9. Chapter Eight

The Ice Lord was covered in frost. It glittered on his hooves, turned the blue pelt on his legs and hips white, coated his torso and shoulders in thick layers and sparkled on his horns and mane. His eyes were the only color left to him, and they blazed with a fury more often seen in volcano spawned _fires_.

**_"You dare,"_** the Ice Lord said again, and stood up slowly. Frost flaked and fell off with the movement, but more formed up to replace what was lost just as quickly.

The air was full of diamond dust, glittering in the faint light from the glowing stalagmite in the center of the room, and the fainter light from Sandy. It was so thick the room looked as though it were full of fog.

"I don't understand," Tooth said. Aster had no idea how she'd managed to speak. He was frozen again, a rabbit pinned in place from sheer, atavistic terror while a mac truck bore down on him at speed.

_How'd_ he forgotten how terrifying the Ice Lord could be?

**_"No?"_** The Ice Lord curled his upper lip. **_"No, of course not. Why should you? After all, it isn't as though I were a_ child _. It isn't as though I were in_ need _of your_ help _. It isn't as though I was_ hated _by_ everyone _. It isn't as though I kept getting_ attacked _. It isn't as though I_ tried _to get your_ attention _! No! Because no one gave a_ damn _about Jack Frost!_ No one wanted anything to do with me _!"_**

Something fell out in the hall, and shattered. The sound- it was like a signal. The Ice Lord stopped speaking, and started yelling.

**_"I am Jack Frost! Me!_ ** **Look at what you did to me _!"_**

Tooth gasped, and clapped her hands over her mouth. Sandy shook his head, as if he were trying to deny something that had just been confirmed, but was too horrible to believe. Aster didn't know how he felt; his insides were cold, his hands and feet numb. He couldn't seem to breathe.

North somehow moved, his heavy boots crunching on the thick, uneven ice. "H-how?" he gasped. "How could we...?"

The Ice Lord- _Jack Frost_ \- snarled at him. **_"I was alone! I had nothing and no one! Humans walked through me and spirits attacked me! Where was my_ wonder _, Nicholas St. North? What's so_ wonderful _about my blighted existence? What's_ wonderful _about being hated by everyone? What's_ wonderful _about being chased off by the only people who can see me, about being_ ignored _by the very being that_ brought _me into this world?_ Tell me _! Tell me what was so_ wonderful _about being first on the naughty list, year in and year out, for four centuries!_ Santa Claus _never even brought me_ coal _!"_**

The volume wasn't the worst of it, Aster decided. The worst of it was realizing that every word had been calculated to make North bleed- and every word was true. The truth was what made North stagger back, joints creaking in the cold, eyes pained and lines of age creasing his face. The truth was what made the old Russian double over as though there was a sword buried in his guts.

Jack Frost sneered at North, and then his gaze snapped over to Tooth. There was something horrible burning in the depths of those eyes, that made his face twist and his lips curl, his fists clench and his breath come short and harsh.

**_"Tell me,"_** he said, suddenly quiet again. **_"Tell me what_ memories _I could have, that I could want, when all I experienced was pain and rejection. I came out of that lake with_ nothing _,"_** he spat, **_"barely more than my name. No_ memories _of a mother,_ nothing _of a father... Hell if I know about siblings. Tooth Fairy, guardian of_ memory _... Tell me, is there a box with_ my _teeth in them?_ My _past? Not that it matters_ now _, you have_ nothing _I could want, not after year after year of being beaten and derided. Do you know I can't remember much of_ anything _past a decade?"_** His grin was twisted. **_"All that pain, and it's nothing more than a vague..._ feeling _. Probably why I'm still sane."_**

Tooth's tears froze on her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice. "I," she whispered. "I never knew... I never- you can't remember? Not _anything_?"

The Ice Lord snarled, and she shrank back. **_"Didn't I just_ say _that?"_**

Tooth shuddered, and turned away. Her shoulders hunched, and her feathers slicked down. She looked small, and broken, and she wept silently into her hands. Frost covered her delicate wings, and she didn't seem to notice.

Sandy moved forward, and patted Tooth's shoulder. He glowered up at the Ice Lord, his expression mixing compassion and defiance in equal measure.

**_"I slept, but I never dreamed,"_** Jack Frost said. **_"Your sands never touched_ me _, dream weaver. Was I simply beneath your notice?"_**

Sandy couldn't blanch, but he looked like he'd been smacked in the face with a live fish. He backed up- walking, not floating- lips pressed tight together. His eyes were scrunched up. He didn't seem able to look at Jack Frost, or at anyone else.

**_"And you._** **Hope _."_** Jack Frost shook his head, and turned away. **_"I held on for a time, you know._ Hoping _. That one day I would be seen. That one day, I'd be greeted with a smile instead of a punch. That one day the moon would speak_ back _, when I asked why I was being_ tortured _."_**

The Ice Lord stopped, and bowed his head. Tension quivered in his shoulders, in his clenched fists. **_"That's what it is, you know. Loneliness. Torture. I never knew what I was doing wrong, not that it mattered. What I_ did _wasn't the point. It's what I_ was _. Winter. Cold, and snow, spreading misery wherever I went. People died. Water froze and pipes burst, automobiles wouldn't start and went off the road... Who would want_ me _around? And yet I still... hoped... that some_ one _, some_ where _..."_**

Aster wondered if Jack Frost had stopped because he had to hold back tears. Aster needed the moment. His vision had gotten all blurry.

**_"But there was no one. Not one person was ever happy to see me. Not one person ever stopped to talk to me- they threw insults and left as quickly as they'd come. I was never welcome anywhere. Do you know how painful it is to be walked through? I thought at first I was dying. Time and again... No matter how many windows I frosted, no matter how many snow days I brought, no matter how many ponds I iced over, snowball fights I started... I tried, and I tried,"_** Jack Frost said, his voice absurdly gentle. **_"And nothing._**

**_"A century ago, give or take a year, I gave up. You wouldn't remember it; you were too busy with Pitch Black. But for me..."_** He shrugged. **_"I_ tried _. I tried so very hard... But I lost control. Do you remember that year? In North America? Probably not. But it was cold, so very cold, all the way into June. It would have been the very first year of an entirely new ice age. And that would have been_ wrong _._**

**_"People would have died. People who had never done me any wrong, who had only ever ignored my existence. But what's so very wrong about that? Everyone did it. Human, spirit... Jack Frost was just an_ ** **expression _."_**

Jack Frost stopped again, lips twisted in the snarl he'd given at 'expression'. Pain, as old and layered as the Antarctic glaciers, had warped his voice. When he looked up, he _was_ the Ice Lord.

**_"I_** **would not _kill those people. I refused. And- do you know what happens when someone has no_ wonder _, no_ memories _, no_ dreams _, and no_ hope _?_ This _."_** He gestured at himself. **_"If I would not start a new ice age, well... My powers had to do_ something _, after all. If I was so horrible, so disgusting on the inside that no one wanted anything to do with me, why not make the outside match?_**

**_"I created my fortress- my Fortress of_ ** **Solitude _\- to hide away, but that just left me trapped with myself. I couldn't stand it. And I discovered- there had been some hope left after all, but the moment I realized, truly discovered, what I was... It shattered._**

**_"I tried to commit suicide."_ **

Aster wasn't the only one who gasped. He suspected he was the only one who felt as if his heart had just been torn out of his chest.

The Ice Lord- no, he was Jack Frost now, just a man beaten down by time and- and everything- scraped the layer of frost off his torso, revealing the scars crossing his arms and stomach.

**_"You cannot see the ones on my thighs, the fur is in the way,"_** he said, entirely matter of fact. **_"I scarred perhaps once out of every ten or twelve attempts. I cannot bleed to death, and any damage done to my nervous system seems to heal. Certainly my neck never broke, no matter how many times I hung myself, and I_ clearly _never choked to death. Gutting didn't work. Not even stabbing myself through my_ heart _,"_** he snarled, his calm shattering, **_"not even that worked! I tried for ten years! Every day! And it never worked!"_**

Aster dropped to his knees. His legs wouldn't support him any longer.

**_"Mother Nature appeared,"_** he said, back to that deadly calm. **_"She said I was disgusting. She told me I had been made king of winter when I had been created. No one told me! She said I was letting the other winter spirits run wild, but why is that_ my _responsibility?_ Why _? I never wanted it! I would have given it all up if I could, just for one kind word!_**

**_"She told me if I ever tried to kill myself again, she'd_ ** **deal _with me. And then she left. She made clear my duty and then_ left _me here, to_ rot _._**

**_"So, rabbit of Easter, Guardian of Hope. You wanted to know about Jack Frost?"_ **

The Ice Lord hooked two fingers under Aster's chin. His touched burned, it was so cold.

Jack Frost's eyes were very blue, and there was a horrible kind of sanity in them. The kind of sanity that only came from going through utter madness and coming out changed on the other side.

**_"Now you know,"_** he said, very quietly.

**_"Now get out."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just be thankful I don't do as another author- she updates once every THREE weeks. I'm updating twice a week. You're welcome.


	10. Chapter Nine

He needed another bloody drink. So he poured another glass full, ignored the stuff that slopped on the table, and swallowed it all down in two gulps.

Aster slammed the glass back down, and it cracked from the impact. That made seven. Or maybe ten. Or maybe it was six, the numbers kept sliding from his grasp, the way the- the- what was he drinking now? Not beer, he hated the taste of bear. Bear? No, beer. Mead? He liked mead, it was very sweet, but hard cider was the best for thinking and that's what he was drinking, wasn't it? Cider, he'd pressed it himself the year after that wanker Pitch's defeat and bloody Jack bloody Frost hadn't been made a bloody Guardian.

Hundred year old cider, he decided, had a bloody good kick.

He threw the broken glass to the side, and fumbled a fresh one out of the cupboard and put it down on the table. He poured it full of cider. And then he drank it all down as fast as he could.

He wasn't drunk enough to think about it. Not yet. His insides still felt like they were full of broken glass.

Aster checked how much cider was left and groaned when he realized the jug was empty. There wasn't any more. There wasn't- and he _still_ wasn't drunk enough yet.

Jack Frost- _Jack Frost_ was the _Ice Lord_. The cranky winter bloke that looked like a monster and talked like a university professor once he got going and who had carefully, so carefully, joked with them right before Aster's question shattered everything.

Aster shivered, and rested his head on the wet tabletop. Maybe he could lick up the spilled cider? Maybe that could help?

No, he thought. Most of the spilled cider had soaked into the fur on the side of his head, anyways. And the table was dirty.

Suicide, he thought, and clenched his eyes shut. No, he still wasn't drunk enough to think about it. To think about the- the utter hopelessness that must have driven Jack Frost to- to-

"Stop," he said, and pressed a trembling hand to his forehead. "Stop, stop, stop."

_"Not even stabbing myself through my_ heart, _not even that worked!"_

It was hard for spirits to kill themselves. Generally speaking, though, a stab through the heart wasn't supposed to fail.

_"I tried for ten years! Every day!"_

Aster clenched his teeth on a sob. He hadn't known. It- if he didn't know, was he supposed to do something about it? It wasn't- _he_ wasn't- He was only one man! He couldn't be everywhere, speak to everyone!

_"I held on for a time, you know._ Hoping _... That's what it is, you know. Loneliness. Torture... And yet I still... hoped... that some_ one _, some_ where _... I gave up."_

But Jack- he had spoken with Jack. 1968 had been the most recent, the last, but for something like two centuries he'd been poked at, off and on, by the winter spirit. He- he'd seen Jack. Yelled at him. Hadn't thrown any punches, thank the light, but... "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"? Whoever'd gone and said that must have been an _idiot_.

Words could hurt worse than anything.

But he hadn't known! How could he be expected to have known?

_"So, rabbit of Easter, Guardian of Hope. You wanted to know about Jack Frost?"_

_Guardian_ of _Hope_. Some bang up job he'd done on that, now, hadn't he?

Aster opened his eyes, and stared at the tabletop just beneath his muzzle. How could he not have noticed the lack of hope? Or- well, no, it hadn't been a _lack_ of hope, but a wavering, fading hope, a tenacious flower slowly being choked by doubt and misery.

He chuckled to himself. He could get quite poetic when drunk, it seemed.

Even if he wasn't quite drunk enough.

_"I tried to commit suicide."_

Horrible, horrible, horrible. He hated it; the word- _suicide_ \- sibilant and sounding all too much like a sword slicing through the air in two devastating strokes, ending with the thud of a finished life hitting the ground. He hated the memories it brought- a young man, teased and tormented by his classmates, seeing no way out except to fill a bathtub and slash his wrists; a girl, beaten and broken and finding release only when she'd tightened the bathrobe sash too tight for her to breathe; silver eyes and dusty brown fur and blood (red, so red) pooling on the ground, because he- her _son_ wasn't reason enough for her to _live_ -

"Enough!" He stood up and flipped the table over. It hit the wall and then the ground, but he couldn't see it because the blood hadn't kept pace with his skull. Head rush. Ugh.

The alcohol probably didn't help any.

He sat down on his chair, somehow undisturbed despite his split-second violence, and cradled his face in his hands. He hadn't known, or hadn't let himself realize. Because it was _only_ Jack Frost, eternal prankster and the most annoying winter spirit Aster had ever met. Because he'd been busy, always busy, too busy to extend even the most basic courtesy.

Jack Frost had been a _child_.

He was supposed to _guard_ children.

Aster breathed in, and out, and closed his eyes again. How could he have...? What had _possibly_ gone through his mind, all those encounters?

And- and when Jack had been chosen as a Guardian- why had he said no? What possible justification had he had, to override Manny's decision and- and...

_Why_?

And what could he do to make up for it?

Was there anything he could do?

Aster rubbed at his face. No, he wasn't nearly drunk enough to think about it all yet.

There _had_ to be something he could do. He had to believe that. Because- because what was the _point_ , otherwise? What could he _hope_ for? He had to believe- to _hope_ \- that he'd find a way to- not to make things _right_ , because the past was broken and he couldn't fix it, but to make things _better_.

He groaned, and looked up. His kitchen was a mess, not that it much mattered. He had to go apologize to the Ice- to Jack. That was the first thing. The longer he waited the less sincere he'd seem. So- now. And then he'd come back and find more cider and drink himself to a stupor, because this whole mess had brought up memories he'd kept firmly suppressed for a _reason_ , thank you.

He did want to sleep without night terrors at some point, after all.

Aster stood up, slow and careful, and wobbled anyways. Once he got moving he was steady enough, barely swaying from one side to the other.

Antarctica was covered in several miles of ice, too much for him to open a tunnel under. He'd have to use one of North's snow globes, which meant a visit to the Workshop was in order. He'd have to find where North kept the globes, because considering how he felt and must have looked, there was no way the man was going to give him one.

Hell, he didn't even know how he'd parted company with the others. He couldn't remember much of anything between leaving the ice fortress, and downing his first glass of cider. Just a stretch of memory filled with nothing but emotion. Horror, mostly, and grief.

He'd remembered to hang his bandolier up on the peg near the door, which was something. With everything he kept hooked on the thing, or tucked into the numerous pockets, well... It wasn't something he wanted to wear while drinking. Something might explode.

And there was a snow globe on the floor.

Aster blinked, and then knelt down, one hand braced on the wall, so he could pick it up.

North wouldn't have given it to him. So how'd he get it?

He clapped his free hand to his muzzle, and groaned. He must have picked North's pocket. There wasn't any other way, since he didn't know where North stored the bloody things, and the bloke was always carrying one or two in his pockets. So... He'd picked the Bandit King's pockets.

Bugger.

Also kind of funny.

The alcohol was the only reason he'd _giggled_ , though.

Jack paced from one corner of the roof to the other, and snarled at thin air. Or not so thin air; there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the sky, and the moon shone down, half full and distant.

**_"This is_** **your _fault,"_** he said, again. **_"All of it. You should have just left me alone! Whatever I was before- I never deserved any of this! Not the- the_ hate _, or the_ fighting _or the- the- It was wrong! And thanks to_ them _, your precious_ pets _, I remember!"_**

Not everything, not even close, but- he remembered what it was to be Jack Frost. To be _human_. Slender ( _tiny_ ) and graceful ( _so very fragile_ ) and emotional ( _weak_ ).

He remembered _flying_ , light as thistledown, on the smallest of breezes and fiercest of gales. He couldn't do that, now. Only the strongest winds could lift his weight, and he barreled his way through the air, graceless and awkward.

**_"The worst part is... they said you sent them. Why now? It's too late. I can't be saved, and you can't make up for your silence."_ **

His throat grew too tight for words. Jack stood in the middle of the roof, and pressed one loosely curled fist to his chest. He wished he could tear his treacherous, aching heart from his chest and trade it for a lump of ice. Perhaps then, he wouldn't hurt. Perhaps then, he wouldn't long for things that he couldn't have.

Wonder, memories, dreams, hope... Fancy words for more earthly desires. Oh, what he wouldn't give for friends, a _family_... A home, warm and welcoming, and someone happy to see him arrive, and sad to see him go...

He'd had that once. He _knew_ he'd had it! But he couldn't remember, though the shadows chased their way through the back of his mind. Who had they been? A mother, a father- a wife? Children? He didn't know. He just didn't know, and that... hurt.

It had been a long time since his hands had ached to hold a child, or his arms to form a loving embrace. He felt the desire now, just as strongly as the first time, but so much worse after so long ignoring it.

**_"And it won't end,"_** he murmured. **_"Nothing will stop it. Even if the seas freeze and the world blanketed in snow, I will still feel this pain. And you will still ignore me."_**

He bowed his head, for once aware of the weight of his horns on his skull, how they curved up and around and created dangerous points beside each cheek.

**_"It's hopeless..."_ **

It was impossible to tell the passage of time, when the moon barely moved overhead. Antarctica had just begun its endless night, the months of darkness that had appealed to an emotionally wounded winter spirit who needed to lick his wounds in privacy. He could have stood there for minutes or perhaps hours.

One of his ice wyrms formed out of the snow at his feet, and looked up at him. Jack blinked at it, and then held one hand to the roof for the creature to climb up on. It had formed without his summoning it. That wasn't supposed to happen.

His emotional madness must have infected his creations. Jack frowned at that. He would have to govern himself better. Destroying his current ice wyrms and ice phoenixes, and making new ones, would take too much effort.

The ice wyrm stared at him, and he grunted. Why had it come here?

_Warm fur chills, three miles to seven 'o clock_ , the wyrm said.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and then they widened as he realized what the ice wyrm meant. **_"The rabbit?"_**

He turned and looked at 'seven o' clock'. At his fortress, all directions were north. With the front gates as 'twelve', it was easier to know which way to look.

Jack dismissed the ice wyrm, and opened a hole in the roof with a gesture. He jumped down, and landed three floors below, in the center of the library. A second gesture closed the holes above him.

His staff leaned against the center table, innocuous until he picked it up. A thin layer of ice coated the old thing in an instant, spreading from his fingers and turned brown wood white.

Seven o' clock was... that way. Jack turned and walked through the walls, gesturing them out of the way before he could smack face first into any of them. They closed up behind him, so quickly the ice brushed the wildest tips of his mane.

Traveling through his castle that way was fast. He was outside in minutes. Jack lifted his staff, and bounded over the guard wall. That ice was old, and disinclined to move aside just because the Ice Lord wished it.

The wind caught him, and carried him several dozen feet further before dropping him to the snow. He stumbled, when the edge of one hoof caught in a crack, and caught his balance by slamming his staff into the ground. There was a loud crack. He checked the wood, but that wasn't what had broken. The thick ice, however, looked like it'd been shot with a bullet.

He shook his head, and started walking. Keeping the proper direction wasn't hard. The stars were out, and he had the fortress at his back. The magic he had infused into his building was like a fire, bright and very, very obvious. So long as he kept the spectral warmth to his back, he was going straight.

Three miles, the ice wyrm had said. That wasn't so very distant, unless you were a stupid rabbit that had forwent the usual cold weather gear.

Jack held up one hand, and concentrated. The air shimmered over his palm, before it warped, and he could see the distant rabbit staggering about, looking confused. He dismissed the spell, and trotted forward. The ice and snow smoothed out in front of him, and he sped up.

Three miles was not so very far to run. Jack reached the rabbit with time to spare, and stopped several feet away. It hurt. Looking at the rabbit hurt. Like knives between his ribs. He'd managed to forget they were there, until the rabbit asked about Jack Frost. And then the knives had twisted, and the pain had doubled, tripled, and hadn't eased.

**_"You,"_** he grumbled.

The rabbit jumped, or tried to. Half his body twitched upwards, while the other half went sideways, and then down into the snow he went. Jack's lips actually twitched at the sight.

**_"You are not normally so graceless."_ **

Impossibly green eyes focused on him- for all of three seconds, before they went hazy again. The rabbit mumbled something, but between the cold and- he smelt of alcohol of some sort- the slurring, it was impossible to decipher the creature's words.

Why was the Easter Rabbit here now? Jack walked a careful circle around the collapsed creature, and sighed. The only thing he could compare this situation to was when that Yuki-Onna had visited. She had been a minor thing, permanently drunk or drugged, from what little he'd been able to tell. The Yuki-Onna had claimed to be a sacrifice of some sort, given to him for- even at the memory, he still blushed. _Appeasement_ was the best word.

He had sent the Yuki-Onna off, disinclined to sample her meager charms and not at all interested in any kind of company.

And now the rabbit was here, his physical ability compromised by the alcohol even before the cold came into play. Another sacrifice? Jack didn't think the Guardians would do that, but they tended to surprise him. Unpleasantly, no less.

He sighed, and crouched down. **_"Very well,"_** he murmured. **_"I suppose letting you freeze to death would be inappropriate. But you will not be staying."_** That just... wasn't what he wanted. The thought of anyone keeping him company because they had to, not because they wanted to, it was just... wrong.

It took some work to lift the rabbit in his arms, without letting go of the staff. In the end he planted it upright in the snow, lifted the rabbit, and caught the staff by the crook. Once he had a hold on the crook, he was able to walk his fingers down the length of the staff until the end no longer dragged in the snow.

The rabbit was cold, too cold to shiver. That was bad. Jack had read up on injuries and illnesses once, and paid special attention to those physical insults caused by cold. Shock. Frostbite. Hypothermia.

**_"You cause me no end of trouble,"_** he decided, and focused on the snow beneath his hooves. It humped up, and began moving forward on its own, faster than he could walk. Not as fast as he could run, but far smoother and with less physical effort.

_Mental_ effort was another story, however. And this was only the beginning, he knew. He'd have to do something about the rabbit's low core temperature, and humans- and whatever the rabbit properly was- were a great deal more difficult than mugs of coffee and tea.

He was going to have one wretched headache at the end of it all, he just knew it.

Jack smiled faintly, and leaned into the breeze. At least this was a distraction from the ache in his chest. And he could yell at the rabbit for a legitimate reason. That was something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who saw this coming? (Corgi you hush, you get all the previews for editing. By the way, did I ever say thanks publicly?)
> 
> (... Thanks publicly!)
> 
> Anyways. Lookit! Sloshed rabbit!


	11. Chapter Ten

Jack huffed, and cupped one hand to the side of the keening rabbit's face. His hand was large enough to cradle the rabbit's head- crush it, should he so desire, in fact- and blocked the dim light admirably. He had willed the light source as dim as it would go, without going out, but apparently even that was still too bright.

The rabbit calmed, and relaxed. Jack considered rolling his eyes. Weak. Warm blood, warm emotions- clearly, all warmth did was make people _weak_. A bout of hypothermia- not even any frostbite, he'd checked- and some liquor and the rabbit could barely open his eyes. How, _how_ had this creature survived even a full century?

Oh, the rabbit did show the occasional spark of intelligence- but he had left his cold weather gear behind for this visit, and arrived some distance away from the fortress. Not that Jack _wanted_ company, but if it had to be inflicted upon him, couldn't it be _intelligent_?

His head hurt.

Jack shifted, very slightly, on his throne. His head hurt, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders were all wound tight as piano strings. Pianos could explode under pressure, if he remembered correctly. That felt like how his muscles were, at the moment.

Warming the rabbit had been harder than he had expected. The energy it had taken, the effort- well, there was a reason his head ached, after all. The concept was simple enough. Molecules vibrated faster the warmer they got- well, and there were other factors, but for _heat_ , vibration was the only important factor. The less vibration, the colder something was. Absolute zero was, so Jack understood, when all molecules stopped moving, entirely.

In such terms, the molecules in the rabbit's body had slowed to a dangerous, glacial pace. They had needed additional energy to vibrate at the proper rates. Jack had fed his own energy to the rabbit's biological systems, though if that had been the only thing he'd done, he wouldn't have felt quite so tired afterwards.

One risk with hypothermia was the formation of ice crystals against, or inside, the cell walls. The crystals were the same size as the cells, or smaller, but could burst the cell walls. One or two cells out of billions wouldn't cause problems, but that was not how the ice crystals worked. It was a very different matter when billions of cells were damaged, leaving only one or two whole.

So Jack had been forced to move his awareness through the rabbit's body, seeking out those tiny flecks of ice and melting them before damage was done. It had given him a near intimate knowledge of the rabbit's body, from the very tip of his ears to the pads of his feet. There was something disturbing about it. Only a mother, or a lover, should know anyone's body so well.

There hadn't been anything he could do for the aftermath of the shock, and honestly, he wouldn't have expended the effort if there had been. Unkind, perhaps, but...

Why, why had the rabbit waited a _century_ to ask about him? Why did he _always_ have to be an _afterthought_?

Perhaps being an afterthought was better than never being thought of at all... but it didn't sooth the ache in his heart.

His stupid, worthless heart...

"Ah..."

Jack looked down, and frowned. The rabbit's face was twisted in pain. **_"Perhaps this will teach you not to drink,"_** he murmured. The rabbit flinched, and cracked one eye open.

"...hain't learned me lesson yet," the rabbit whispered, his voice barely audible and thready with pain. "Can't think why I'd learn now."

Jack drew on every ounce of self-control he had, and banished any hint of weariness or amusement from his face and demeanor. The rabbit could not know he was tired. The rabbit could not know he had felt some stirring of amusement.

To the rabbit, he could be only the Ice Lord, strong, remote, and unwelcoming.

**_"Why are you here?"_** He still couldn't believe the other Guardians would send him the rabbit, as the Yuki-Onna had sent one of their own number. Surely not. Surely the Guardians would want to cosset and protect their Easter, their spring, their _Hope_. To send the rabbit to him as a sacrifice of _any_ sort was madness.

And yet, what other reason could there be for the rabbit's appearance in his domain, in such a state?

His head. _Hurt_.

The Easter Rabbit blinked several times, winced, and turned his head somewhat so he could press his face into the Ice Lord's palm. It seemed to give him some form of comfort; the Ice Lord couldn't imagine why.

"Were you like this before?" the rabbit asked. His voice was a little stronger, though muffled from how his mouth pressed against the base of the Ice Lord's thumb. It absolutely did not tickle.

The Ice Lord scowled. **_"What?"_**

The rabbit gestured, rather weakly, at the Ice Lord. "Smart. Proud. Strong."

The Ice Lord huffed, and decided the rabbit wasn't quite recovered enough for an answer. Besides... Smart? Proud? Strong?

The strength he could see, he supposed. Physical and magical. Hadn't he made this entire fortress with his two hands and his magic? Couldn't he pick up and throw his throne, which surely weighed almost as much as he did? Hadn't he created his globe, through which he could affect the entire world?

And yes, it had taken intellect to create that globe, so in that there might be something to the rabbit's observation. The size of his library- something he had never shown the others, and thank solid ice for that- could either attest to his learning or being a hoarder, he wasn't sure which.

Proud, though? He had no pride, only his duty. Pride meant there were things you would not do, he supposed. In the course of his duty- it was his duty. There was nothing he wouldn't do.

But... always this way? The idea made him laugh. No, he had been weak, foolish- one could even say stupid- and never proud.

**_"I am better than I was,"_** he finally said. The rabbit could take it however he wanted.

The rabbit sighed. "But before. What were you like?"

What did it matter?

The rabbit tilted his head, and eyed the Ice Lord out of one red-rimmed eye. "Please."

Oh, very well. **_"Weak,"_** he said, and looked away from the rabbit. He stared at the globe instead. **_"Emotional. Young, and clueless."_** He looked back down. **_"Does that satisfy your curiosity?"_**

The rabbit closed his eye. "Came t' talk t' you."

The Ice Lord hummed in acknowledgement. The question was, talk about what?

"Th' others don't know I'm here."

Ah, so they hadn't _sent_ the rabbit. The Ice Lord nodded, and then looked dubiously at the rabbit. Surely he hadn't decided to volunteer _himself_...

Surely not. No one sane would want to- and why was he still _thinking_ on this?

Clearly, he thought, his brief lapse back to Jack Frost's thought patterns had been more potent than he'd initially believed. He was dwelling far too much on the idea that someone would- would touch him, affectionately, even if it were coerced...

Disgusting. He banished the idea from his mind.

**_"Why_** **are _you here?"_** he demanded.

"'pologize," the rabbit muttered. "Fer everything."

Jack's lips parted in surprise, but the rabbit didn't notice. He fell asleep, utterly limp and trusting on his lap.

How very... strange...

When he woke up next, his head had stopped hurting. Instead, the pain had moved, became parched lips and a dry throat, swollen tongue and aching stomach. Someone with large, gentle hands helped him lift his head, and an oddly textured glass was held to his mouth. He took small, slow sips of water that was ice cold. Somehow, the glass never needed filling. He was able to drink as much as he could in one sitting, and sighed when the glass was taken away. Oh, that felt good.

Now, just what helpful soul was helping a poor, aching Pooka who'd gone and gotten epically sloshed?

He cracked one eye open, cautiously, but whatever light source there was had been dimmed. There were odd shadows around him; certainly this wasn't his Warren, or North's Workshop. It wasn't Tooth's Palace, either. And Sandy didn't have much by way of guest quarters in his home.

So where...? And what was he lying on, rocks? This felt like no mattress, nest, or pad of blankets he'd ever taken a kip on.

His eyes adjusted to the low light, and he looked to the side- right at a chest that belonged to a male bodybuilder on steroids. Or, he realized, an unamused Ice Lord by the name of Jack Frost.

Despite, or maybe because of the dim light, Jack's eyes seemed to glow. His face was in shadow, but- well. There was clearly a reason why Aster had remembered those eyes, even after more than a century.

"Morning," he breathed, doing his best to shake off what was quickly turning into an automatic reaction. Being the recipient of all that focus was a bit... intimidating. Even when Jack wasn't angry.

He was a Pookan warrior of the first degree, he reminded himself. He'd fought in two Fearling Wars, forgotten more about martial arts than the humans had come up with in their species' entire existence, and hadn't backed down when dealing with Pitch. He certainly wasn't going to freeze or run away because the Ice Lord looked a mite bit tetchy.

**_"It is afternoon,"_** Jack corrected him.

"Oh. Afternoon, then," he said, a touch weakly.

Jack looked away. **_"Hn."_**

Chatty bloke, wasn't he?

Aster reached up and rubbed his temple. "What, uh, what happened?"

**_"You froze."_ **

He stared at the underside of Jack's chin for a long minute, and sighed. "Right. Of course I did." What'd he _do_ last night?

He remembered drinking. He remembered- his mind flinched away from the thought- and deciding to go talk with Jack. To apologize. He'd had a snow globe. He'd... ended up _outside_ the fortress, hadn't he?

"Did you rescue me?"

Jack looked down, twitched the muscles just below his immobile eyebrows, and snorted.

"Of course you did. Sorry. I meant, ah, why'm I not frozen anymore?"

Was that a smile? **_"You thawed."_**

"You're a right conversational bastard, you know that?"

And that was a frown. **_"What did you call me?"_**

"Aussies call everyone bastards, mate." He purposefully pointed his ears forward, instead of pinned down and back like they wanted to be. "No insult meant."

**_"Fortunately for you."_ **

He shivered a touch at the implied threat. "How'd you warm me up? Temperature here being what it is..." Although, Jack's skin was certainly warm enough. And he was curled up in the Ice Lord's lap. For some reason, though, he thought there was a bit more to it than that.

Jack sighed, and half closed his eyes. **_"It is possible to reverse cold to heat,"_** he said.

Aster's eyes fairly bugged out of his head. "Hold up now- what? You- you- what? That shouldn't be _possible_."

**_"And yet."_** Jack gestured at Aster. **_"It was not so very difficult."_**

"Pig's arse," Aster muttered. He hadn't heard of any spirit capable of using their powers opposite of how they were supposed to be used. Sandy couldn't give bad dreams, Tooth couldn't take memories away, and he couldn't kill anything by magic. Fire elementals couldn't pull the energy away from a thing to chill it, just as ice elementals shouldn't be able to _add_ energy to heat something up.

But Jack Frost claimed to have, what, warmed Aster's frozen body up? He must have.

How was he _awake_? It must have taken an incredible amount of energy to manage it.

**_"Truly,"_** Jack said, reading Aster's doubtful expression like a book. One with lots of pictures and very small words. **_"Everything is made up of atoms, you are aware. I simply needed to... nudge yours."_**

"That doesn't make it any less impressive." Actually, it made it _more_ impressive. He didn't think even Mother Nature could work on that level.

Jack snorted, and looked away again.

"No, really." Aster sat up. "Thanks."

**_"Hn. Why are you here, again?"_ **

He was sitting on the Ice Lord's lap. Jack's lap. It made him feel very small, and he wasn't at all sure he liked the feeling; but it was almost warm, and actually rather comfortable now that he wasn't draped across the bloke's legs like a fainted maiden.

"I came to apologize. For- well, for a lot of things, Jack. I was an arse to you, all those years, and you didn't deserve any of it. Shouldn't have taken liquid courage to get me out here, but there you are."

Jack turned his head so he could eye Aster sidelong. **_"Is that so?"_**

"I never gave you a fair crack of the whip."

Jack turned to look at Aster, eyes scrunched up a touch. **_"Fair...?"_**

Aster twitched an ear. "I treated you like you were one of the hoons what like killing people, before I met you even, and refused to note any evidence pointing otherwise. It wasn't right. And for that, I'm sorry."

Should he mention the aborted Guardianship? No, he decided. That would only rip open another scar. He'd let this one heal up some before he went and did that.

**_"I cannot forgive you,"_** Jack said. He actually sounded as if he regretted it a little. **_"Not now. I..."_** He looked down at one hand, and then sighed. **_"Well. Perhaps, in time..."_**

"A chance is more than I deserve."

Jack's eyes glittered. **_"We shall see if you are of the same opinion in a month, Kangaroo. Go home. I have my work, and you, doubtless, have yours."_**

Aster nodded, and got off the Ice Lord's lap. He stretched up and back, spine cracking, and then checked his bandolier pouches. Oh.

Problem.

"Ah, I don't suppose there's a way for you to send me to Oz? I... don't have any snow globes."

Jack shook his head, straggles of hair falling in front of his bowed face. Even so, Aster was just able to see the slight upwards curve of his lips. **_"_ How _have you survived this long? Come. You travel by earth, do you not? I'm sure I can get you access, it's only a little ice..."_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who thinks Jack is being nicer than he should be... he's Jack. He's very forgiving. Also, confused. And finally, Bunny IS his favorite...
> 
> Updates for Winter Rose shall be reduced to once a week for the month of November, on Tuesdays or Wednesdays depending. But fear not! I have another story that will be posted on Fridays (first one today) called Rabbit Heart. Enjoy!


	12. Chapter Eleven

It was a good thing he hadn't expected things to go back to normal. Jack snorted. Normal. Things had not been _normal_ for over a year now, since that first intrusion. Visit. Annoyance.

Giving the kangaroo access to the earth had been a mistake. He had no idea how the creature- he really should _call_ the rabbit _something_ \- opened and closed tunnels like that. It was probably an act of will, such as his powers over the ice. The tunnels were fascinating, from a distance.

Yet creating the well down through the ice, to the earth- the rabbit just kept coming back! The weekly schedule seemed to have been discarded, most annoyingly.

Though, the other three Guardians had yet to visit. Three weeks since he had last seen them. One might think they were wary of approaching him now.

Jack stood up, and glowered at the walls. There was no point in getting upset. He hadn't wanted the Guardians to visit. Now they had stopped. He should be _pleased_ , not annoyed. Even if the rabbit _did_ insist on visiting every _single_ day.

Staring at his globe for several hours had no appeal. But nor did going to his library, or watching any of the human entertainments he'd collected over the years.

Lacking anything else to do, he went out for a walk.

It was 'evening', or as close to day as Antarctica ever got in winter. Yet, it wasn't dark, as such; the moon- and starlight reflected off the snow. It wasn't as bright as day, not even bright enough to read by, but it was possible to see.

The nearest penguin colony was something like two and a half hours away, hiking over land. The physical exertion was exactly what he wanted. When he crested the first glacial hill, his calves burned. By the time he actually reached the colony, his chest heaved like a bellows as he gasped for breath. The soles of his hooves ached from where ice had bruised the sensitive frogs. Had he controlled every step, he wouldn't have those bruises, but he had confined his powers only to ensuring he didn't slice himself open on sharp ice.

What was the _point_ of going out if you didn't return with a collection of aches and strains?

The penguins were clustered together in their ever shifting group. He thought they were the males, with their eggs, but he couldn't be certain. Watching them waddle about was worth the trip. Usually if he wanted to watch penguins, he did so through his ice mirrors. He couldn't remember why, now. He felt... good, getting out like this.

He formed a bench from the ice with a moment's concentration, then sat and watched the birds. New penguins joined the group every so often, and he watched as one penguin left the group and carefully transferred an egg to a newcomer. They then switched places, the egg minder joining the group, the now freed penguin waddling off towards the open ocean.

_"... and I'll conquer the world with my army of mutant, flying penguins!"_

Jack sighed. He wished he could remember whoever had said that. They'd sounded... nice. Their voice had been warm, young- but not childish- and _human_. Where his voice had over- and under-tones of cracking ice and wind howling over sharp, icy ridges, the human voice was simply... laughing.

If that person, whoever they'd been, had been around for the last century, would he have...?

Jack studied his hands, with their broad, calloused palms, long, thick fingers, and heavy nails. At least he still had fingers, and opposable thumbs. Something had happened to turn his feet into hooves. It was entirely possible that the magic had been progressing, as slow and steady as a glacier, and that one day he'd walk on all fours, like a-

**_"No! I will not allow that!"_ **

He shoved up onto his hooves- his _feet_ \- and dismissed the bench with one hand. It crumbled to powder.

He glanced back at the penguins, before turning and heading back to his fortress. He'd walked enough. It was time to get back to work.

There was someone waiting for him. Jack huffed, and headed for the throne room. The rabbit again, he suspected. And another long 'talk' where the rabbit chattered on about... whatever, it wasn't as though he listened to the nonsense the creature spouted.

For once, he used the hallway instead of traveling straight through the ice. Not that he bothered to open the door; that, he walked straight through, the ice shifting out of his way before going back to normal.

It was not the rabbit.

He stopped short, just inside the doorway, and glared. The Tooth Fairy, a burst of color in the otherwise dull white and silver of his throne room.

**_"What are_ ** **you _doing here?"_**

The Tooth Fairy spun around, wings beating frantically. "Oh! Oh, you startled me."

Jack stared at her. Then, when that did not seem to get him any reaction, he glared.

**_"What,"_** he said, again, **_"are you_ doing _here?"_**

She bit her lower lip. "I- we talked. About what you said earlier."

What _had_ he said earlier? He knew he'd said... something to each of them, but not the words. Those slipped from his grasp like liquid water through his fingers.

**_"And?"_** he grumbled, moving around the edge of the room until he could sit in his throne.

"I'm the Guardian of Memory. If you can't remember something- we were all someone, Jack. All I have to do is find your baby teeth!" She hovered higher in the air, from excitement he presumed. "And then you will remember!"

He snorted. **_"And how will you find my baby teeth?"_**

"They're all stored in my palace- which you saw," she said, and scowled. After a moment, she returned to smiling. "I'll just find your name, and there they'll be!"

**_"And what name do you suppose they'll be under?"_** he asked, suddenly amused. It wasn't a very nice amusement, but then, he wasn't feeling _nice_.

"Jack Frost, of course."

Well. He smiled. Or showed his teeth. One or the other. **_"What makes you think that_ was _my name?"_**

Apparently, the Tooth Fairy's wings stopped working when she was dismayed. "You... Of course it was your name. Wasn't it?"

He shrugged. **_"_ I _wouldn't know."_** Much though he wanted to. Quite honestly, he was surprised he'd managed to remember that _he_ was called Jack Frost.

"But... Well," she said, rallying, "we can start by your birthplace and year... no?"

He stopped shaking his head. **_"No."_**

"There must be _something_ ," she murmured.

**_"There isn't."_ **

Jack looked away from the dispirited Tooth Fairy. He had the feeling that if he said anything, she'd crumple to the ground and start sobbing, or something emotional like that. How utterly useless.

"Then, well," she said. He looked at her from the corner of one eye. So she hadn't cried after all. Good. "There is something I could do. It won't be very fast..."

He looked straight at her, waiting.

The Tooth Fairy licked her lips, and straightened up to her full, diminutive height. "I could influence your memory, strengthen it. You'd get... bits, pieces back. When you dreamed. And then-"

**_"A problem,"_** he said, interrupting. **_"I do not dream."_**

For some reason, that made her smile. "Sandy can help with that. He'd be delighted to. Especially after- so, do you agree? I'll use my powers, so will Sandy, and you'll start to remember things. Once you have something that we can use, I'll find your box of baby teeth and you'll get it all back!"

**_"So quick to volunteer your companion,"_** he mused. **_"What makes you think he'll agree?"_**

"I know him. I trust him. He'll do it."

**_"I know him too,"_** he said, as gently as he could. She still flinched. **_"I know he failed me. Nevertheless..."_**

He watched her throat flex when she swallowed. "I have to touch you."

Jack held out one hand.

The Tooth Fairy flew close, ignoring his hand. Had he wanted to, he could have leaned forward and head butted her in the chest.

She brushed her fingers over his forehead, so lightly he barely felt the touch. Then, down his nose to the blunt tip. Both hands, now, one to each side of his face, fingers tracing the lines of his cheekbones and down to the square of his jaw. And then she ran her fingers up to his temples, and back to the start of his horns. It felt- odd. Her fingers made his skin tingle, as though he'd been burned by the chill wind. The further she traced down and around his horns, the less he felt; he didn't realize she'd stopped touching him until she moved back, hands at her sides.

"It will start slowly," she said. "Would you- if I ask, will you tell me what you remember?"

**_"It depends on what I remember,"_** he said.

When she was gone, he reached up and brushed his fingers over his cheek.

Jack shot to his feet and snarled. This was- where _was_ he? Not his fortress. Sand, as far as he could see, golden and white beneath the too-bright sun. Yet- where was the heat? Why wasn't he squinting? What _was_ this place?

There you are.

He spun around, and a part of him relaxed. He refused to show it. "You."

Jack paused. Blinked. Reached up and touched his throat. That... had not been his voice.

You are dreaming. Not everything will be as you expect. Dreams don't always make sense. Sanderson smiled, and floated closer. It's alright. I just wanted to talk to you. This is... easier.

"What did you do to my _voice_?" He sounded- he sounded- _Human_.

It's a dream. Sanderson shrugged. Sand heaped up behind him, turning into a tree made out of copper bark and emerald leaves. Jack frowned, and then concentrated on the nearest branch. It iced over, and fell to the ground. He smiled, until it sank into the sand and vanished.

"Why am I here?"

I told you. I wanted to speak with you.

A dream, hm? His powers worked, somewhat. Or he thought they did. Perhaps that was enough. He paced several steps forward, and then back. Sanderson watched him. Turning his back to the Dreamweaver was uncomfortable.

Jack held one hand out, and concentrated. It took more effort than he was used to, but slowly, his throne formed. He was fairly certain it was ice, but- well, he wouldn't be surprised if it were actually sand. So long as it _looked_ right and held his weight; that was the important part.

I have not seen anyone else able to create shapes out of dreamsand, Sanderson said. Not like this. Pitch Black could only use corrupted sand.

The Ice Lord huffed, and sat proud on his throne. "I am strong."

Sanderson nodded, and a smaller, golden version of Jack's throne formed for the man to sit on. The throne was in midair. Yes. You are. This gives me ideas...

"Why am I here?"

The Sandman looked amused. In a metaphysical fashion?

"In this dream."

Ah. I think that's more complicated, actually.

"And how are you _talking_?" It wasn't speech, as such; Sanderson's mouth didn't move to the words, and he didn't hear anything. It wasn't like his ice wyrms. It was- he remembered what Sanderson said, even though he hadn't, in fact, said anything at all!

This is a dream, Sanderson pointed out. Not everything makes sense in a dream.

_This_ was what he'd been missing? Jack scowled. Clearly he shouldn't have been upset about that.

The sand beneath their feet rippled, and changed. Tiny waves lapped at his hooves, at the base of his throne, and when he touched his fingers to the surface, they were wet.

Yet it was still sand.

"This is absurd," he muttered.

Yes.

"And you are insane."

Quite possibly.

Jack huffed, and concentrated until the sand under his feet solidified and iced over. Or appeared to become ice. He didn't much care which it was. Just so long as it stopped acting like water!

Toothiana has marked you. Sanderson pointed at Jack's forehead. Your memories are strengthening.

"She said I had to dream, to remember. An issue, considering." Was the Sandman's hand supposed to float away from his wrist like that?

I'm sorry. For before.

Sorry. _Sorry_? "Why?" Jack leaned forward, fingers digging into the arms of his throne. "Why have I _never_ dreamed? The others I can understand, but you-! _Why_?"

Sanderson looked down, and his shoulders heaved in a silent sigh. I don't know.

"You don't-" Anything he would have said next would have been physically impossible. Even in this... _dream_.

Sanderson looked up. I give good dreams to _children_. Occasionally to adults. If I concentrate, if I know where someone is, I can trigger their dreams. As I triggered yours, tonight. But if you aren't a child, I can't _feel_ when you sleep. If you sleep too deeply, too lightly- I don't know what the factors were. But now I am looking for you. Now I can give you dreams.

Jack concentrated on breathing evenly. "I am not a child."

The Sandman spread his hands, the gesture saying 'there you are, then', without need for words. Of any kind.

Well. That was... interesting. Jack eased up his grip on the throne arms, and leaned back. "Will all the dreams be like... this?"

Sanderson shook his head. Probably not.

"Probably?"

He woke up at that point, of course.

The oversized man in the red coat was expected. The sack was not.

"I checked the lists," North said. His accent had faded, mysteriously enough. "The name Jack Frost has held the record for the Naughty List. Four hundred and thirteen years. And two years on the Nice List."

That would make him... four hundred and fifteen? At least. **_"What is your point?"_**

The old man straightened to his full height. Jack was sitting; it meant their eyes were mostly level. "You said I never even brought you coal."

He... had. Yes. He... remembered that.

So the dreams _were_ bringing his memories back. Strange.

"I checked. You were right, I never did." St. North sighed, and while he didn't change, he seemed to get older. The lines on his face carved deeper. "No present for two years on Nice List, no coal for all those years on Naughty. That... was not right. Not right at all."

Jack narrowed his eyes. **_"_ Why _?"_** It all boiled down to that, didn't it? _Why_ had he been ignored for so _long_?

Four hundred and fifteen years, to be exact.

"You had no home."

The blood hadn't frozen in his veins. It only felt that way.

St. North looked down at his hands, and then at the sack. "Santa Claus comes down the chimney," he said. "Or through the exhaust pipes, not all houses have fire places anymore. Or even a century ago. Children on the street can go to churches and shelters for Christmas, but where can spirits go?"

**_"We can't,"_** he whispered.

"No spirit has ever written me to ask for anything. No spirit has ever been on my lists." St. North paused, and reached into one pocket. "Except for you."

He pulled out a scrap of paper, thick and worn and faded with age, and held it out. "Read it," he said.

Jack took it carefully, touching only the edges. The writing had been done with charcoal, and every letter had been smudged to some degree. It was parchment, he realized, cheap and heavy, and old as it was, he thought he smelled old fashioned inks, the stuff kept in inkwells that quills were dipped in. An old store, he thought, even as what little he remembered faded into the fog that was his memory.

The spelling was atrocious, the handwriting worse, and if there had been any commas or periods they had worn away long ago.

The letter, such as it was, had been signed 'Jack Frost'.

He looked up at St. North.

"I found that. With the list from- well, your first appearance on my lists."

**_"I can't read it,"_** he admitted.

"Neither could I." St. North shrugged. "Well, I read one line. Down near the bottom."

Jack looked down at the letter again. If he squinted- and tilted the paper sideways- he could just make out the line 'ane a bunne wont ran awei from mee'.

St. North cleared his throat. "So. You have home now, and- I have a lot of years to make up for."

Jack snarled. **_"I will not be bribed-"_**

"Late presents are better than never." The old man looked calm, and patted the large sack he'd set down on the floor by his side. "I have them here. Perhaps not period accurate, but coal does not keep so very long."

Then he knelt down and opened the sack.

St. North- _Santa_ \- pulled out two small boxes, first. Well, they were small to Jack, who could have held a grown man's head in a single hand. They appeared somewhat bigger when St. North had them. One box was covered in blue wrapping paper, decorated with, of all things, penguins. The other shimmered, different colors reflecting back depending on how he tilted it.

It was tricky, but he unwrapped the two boxes without tearing anything. He glanced up at St. North before opening the first box.

Jack took a deep breath, and pulled out a cloak. It was sized to fit him. He had expected white, or blue. The cloak was neither of those colors.

It was _green_ , the pale shade glacial ice sometimes turned. It shimmered, ripples of silver moving up and down the length of the fabric, but that was only the reflection of light off of the surface. It felt like cool water over his hands.

"Put it on," St. North urged.

He shrugged, and did. The fabric floated, light as silk, but once on it had a weight to it, like heavy velvet. It clasped at the throat with a pin, carved of abalone shell, made to look like a six pointed snowflake. When he stood still, the cloak whispered closed in front, leaving only his head and hooves visible. When he walked, it billowed dramatically behind him.

St. North grinned. "You look very good," he said.

Jack nodded, and looked at the second box. It was slightly smaller than the first, which had held the cloak. He licked his lips, and carefully lifted the lid.

It was... a stuffed animal. A plush rabbit. He lifted it from the box, and stared down into its button eyes.

**_"A..."_** He swallowed down the threatening chuckle. **_"A bunny that... won't run away from me."_**

"Yes," St. North said. "Don't tell our Easter Bunny, no? I used him as model."

How? This looked nothing like the bipedal rabbit he was used to. Oh, the fabric was gray, except for the black embroidery on the forehead, shoulders, and back, and the buttons were green- but this was a plump little rabbit, more like the forest creatures Jack had seen once upon a time.

Still. **_"I won't tell him,"_** he promised.

"Good, good." St. North's smile turned slightly wicked. "Now. For coal, for years on naughty list."

And he patted the sack again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have hardly anything to say- oh, wait, no, I do have things to say! You all know I've been writing ahead, right? Well, Winter Rose is now at chapter twenty-two, and this is WITH me putting it way on the back burner for November. (Original story is going very well, I like Shay, I'll tell you more in December.)
> 
> Winter Rose has now reached 152 pages and 63,809 words. In posting chapter eleven, you now see 76 pages, 30,698 words of the grand total.
> 
> Thought I'd share that.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Aster paced back and forth along the banks of the primary Color River. It was summer, the time of year when he tended to roam about looking for new inspiration for his art. He acted like all he thought about was painting his Easter eggs, but- those were _meant_ for others to look at. They were, for the most part, mass produced; some imperfections were expected. His _personal_ work was another matter. He hated showing others his sketches. He could tolerate the Guardians, since they were, after all, his friends and co-workers, but the idea of complete strangers judging his work made his skin crawl.

Usually that wasn't a problem, but last year someone- he wasn't sure who- had snuck a peek over his shoulder while he was sketching a valley scene, and now he couldn't leave his burrow without being harassed. Everyone wanted to look at his sketches, it seemed. And no point in telling them no; the spring spirits got all weepy when he did, and the summer spirits got annoyed- and tended to catch their hair on fire in their temper. At least the autumn spirits weren't interested, focusing on the harvest, and as for winter spirits... Hah, no.

Last year he'd put up with it, but the idea of going through all that again this year made him cringe. He loved his Warren, but he also enjoyed going _outside_. So far no one had followed him to North's Workshop, but the few visits he'd made to Tooth's Palace or Sandy's island had ended up cut short because some people had no idea of a little thing called _boundaries_.

North's Workshop would probably be safe enough for a while yet, and Aster couldn't imagine anyone so much as _thinking_ about dropping by the Ice Lord's Fortress... Hold up there...

Jack had left the stairwell down to Antarctica's buried earth for Aster to use, any time he wanted. Aster visited the bloke plenty, in part because he did feel guilty over his earlier treatment of Jack, in part because he could tell Jack was lonely, mostly because Jack was one of the best conversational partners he'd had in a long time. They were, he wanted to think, friends now. Maybe Jack would be willing to help out? If he kept Aster company on his rambles, well, those pushy spirits would back right off.

Aster was familiar with Jack's appearance now, but not numb to it. That was one right intimidating bloke, for sure.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to one of his sentinels. "No harm in asking."

 He didn't want to spend the summer and autumn going only to the north and south poles, after all. He'd had plans for visiting some Canadian ruins. He didn't want to shelve them.

The sentinel turned itself to show a neutral face, rather than approving or disapproving. "Ah, well, you're just a great carved rock, what do you know?" Aster shook his head, then turned and headed back for his burrow. He slung on his bandolier, and then found his satchel for his sketching supplies. Last of all he tucked a few apples and pears into the satchel, for a snack later. The one good thing about being able to travel all about the world in a short length of time, fruit was _always_ in season.

In his own Warren, he didn't have to tap open a tunnel, at least not when he didn't have to rush. He ran over the grass until he reached the lone tunnel heading to Antarctica. Jack should feel special, he thought, and smiled. He'd never had a tunnel heading _that_ far south before.

Thanks to his magic no tunnel took more than half an hour to run, no matter how far he had to go. Aster stretched his muscles a bit. He realized, somewhat surprised, that he was smiling. Well, he had reason! He'd be able to wander around wherever he wanted, with _intelligent_ company, thank you, and he was sure Jack would enjoy poking around ruins and forests and jungles. It'd be fun!

He kept his winter gear, the boots and coat at least, at the end of the tunnel where it let out onto the Ice Fortress. It was too cold to go without them. Especially the boots; he liked his toes, and rather wanted to keep them.

Aster stomped his feet several times to get the boots settled, and slung the coat over his shoulders without actually putting it on. Unfortunately the boots threw off his balance, so he walked up the stairs instead of running and jumping, the way he always wanted to. It was a long way up the stairs.

He reached the top, and then headed to the throne room. For the first time, he wasn't escorted by one of Jack's ice minions. He couldn't help but be thankful. He wasn't sure which was worse, the blank eyed bird or the blank eyed dragon, but they both gave him cold chills.

"Jack?" He didn't see the Ice Lord right off; instead of sitting on his throne, or standing at his globe, Jack was halfway up the wall and doing... something. "What're you up to, there?"

He got a loud, rumbling sigh in answer. Aster's lips twitched. He moved over to study the globe, and found Canada, tilted toward the 'sun' for summer. And currently early morning.

"I have got to make myself something similar," he muttered, the back of his mind turning over various materials he could use. He had no idea how he'd get the weather to show, but maybe all he really needed was to know which part of the world was in what season, and what time of day. He'd never had a globe before, never felt the need for one, but... Something like this? Yeah, he wanted one.

**_"So,"_** the Ice Lord growled, right behind Aster. **_"What brings you here, Kangaroo?"_**

Aster about jumped out of his skin. "You do that on purpose!"

**_"I do achieve some small amusement from startling you, yes."_ **

Jack moved back to his throne, and sat down. Aster chittered at him.

**_"Yes, yes, you're quite annoyed. Why have you come to annoy me? Again."_ **

Ah, yes, that was right! Aster straightened up. "I was going to poke around some old ruins up in Canada. Would you like to come with? I can take you through one of me tunnels, quick as a-"

**_"No."_ **

Aster blinked several times. "No? But I'm sure you'd like it, the ruins are actually rather lovely-"

**_"I said no!"_** Jack surged up onto his feet, face twisted in a snarl. **_"Get out!"_**

He stumbled, and nearly fell down. Stupid boots. "No." Did his voice quaver? Oh, for the love of- his voice quavered. Stupid, inevitable, physical reaction to an angry Ice Lord. He really needed to get better about that. He stood up to angry mother bears and a sugar-deprived North on a semi-regular basis, there was no reason for him to get skittish just because Jack was indulging in a bit of temper.

**_"No?"_** the Ice Lord hissed, advancing on Aster. **_"I am the lord and master of this place, and you_ will _do as I say!"_**

"Don't be a whacker!" Aster straightened up as best he could with his knees trying to knock together. "You're sure not my lord and master!"

Jack hesitated half a step, and then continued on forwards. **_"Then I will simply have to exile you from my realm!"_**

"You won't do that." He wouldn't. He had to believe that.

The Ice Lord loomed over him, nine feet tall and bristling with anger. **_"No? Wherefore should I not?"_**

"Because then you'd only have Tooth, Sandy, and _North_ for company."

Jack huffed, and shook his head. He muttered something under his breath, but it was so quiet not even Aster's ears could pick it up. **_"Perhaps,"_** he said, louder.

Aster relaxed once Jack backed up two steps, giving him space. "Why don't you want to come with me?" he asked. Here he'd thought Jack liked his company.

**_"I_ ** **don't _go outside."_**

"Liar," he said, without much heat. "You went out to get me."

**_"That was different."_ **

"Why, because you were still- is that it? You can't go anywhere warm?"

Jack drew himself up to his full height. **_"No."_**

"Because I heard something from Tooth," Aster continued. "You told her fairies-"

**_"I lied."_ **

"To the fairies?" He shook his head. "You're braver than I am, mate, they'll get you back good for that."

Jack only harrumphed in reply. Aster frowned, and followed him over to the throne. "But no, really, why not?"

**_"Drop it, rabbit."_ **

"Bunny, and no. Not until you tell me why."

**_"I_** **said _, drop it."_** But Jack's eyes weren't angry. They were... sad?

Aster let his ears drop in what was, properly, a gesture of relaxation. But humans, and humanoid spirits, tended to take it as a sign of sorrow or fear. He couldn't quite manage big, shimmering eyes though. "Jack?"

The Ice Lord didn't seem able to look at him. His massive shoulders hunched, his hands clenched on the arms of his throne, and his eyes shifted restlessly from side to side. Finally, lips twisted, he turned on Aster. **_"Because I'm_ ugly _!"_**

The Pooka's breath caught in his throat. Ugly? Jack?

Well, despite his height he did look almost squat from all the muscle, and his broad, almost flat face, with its immobile eyebrows did take some getting used to... But... "You're not ugly. Not even close."

Jack snorted. **_"No? Than- than why was everyone so-"_**

Oh. Oh, that was... Aster forced himself to keep breathing. "Jack..."

**_"The world is kind to those who are attractive, and cruel to those who are not,"_** the Ice Lord said. **_"I have seen it, and no doubt you have too. What other reason could there be? Unless my personality was so very terrible."_**

"No, mate," Aster said, all but whispering. "Do you... We met once, do you remember?"

**_"We... met?"_** Jack's eyes widened. **_"When?"_**

"Century and a half ago now, it was. You snowed out Easter."

Jack's expression was almost sickened. **_"I did?"_**

He nodded. "You did. I thought... I thought it was like the other winter spirits do, to hurt and kill, but... I was wrong. I know I was wrong, and I think I knew it back then. You were laughing, and instigating snowball fights when I tracked you down. Not looking to- but I didn't pay attention to the evidence, just jumped down your throat and about jobbed you."

**_"About_** **what _?"_** the Ice Lord muttered, and shook his head. **_"But... why would I do that?"_** At Aster's expression, he elaborated, **_"Why would I cause a storm if it was only going to interfere with you and yours?"_**

"I don't know. Do you... remember anything about it?"

Jack shook his head. **_"I don't. I think I remember yelling, but... that's it."_**

Aster moved closer. "Whether you remember it or not, I'm sorry for it now. It wasn't right. But- I think that's why, Jack. Everyone judged you based on the other winter spirits. Never gave you a fair crack of the whip for yourself."

**_"Fair- do you do that on purpose? You sound like you're speaking English, but you really aren't."_ **

He ignored that. "But you're not ugly, Jack. Not then and not now. You were- and you still are- and you have the most amazing eyes," he said, mentally fumbling a bit. He _didn't_ remember what Jack had looked like, but he was fairly certain he'd have remembered a disfigurement or twisted shape.

**_"You're a_ ** **rabbit _, what would you know of it?"_**

Aster flinched back for half a second. "Fine. That's just... fine." He breathed out, not sure what he felt but anger wasn't part of it. "I've said my opinion, you don't want to hear it, and you don't want to visit Canada with me. I get it. I'll just... Go, now."

He turned and headed for the door.

He actually made it halfway down the hall before he felt warmth against the tips of his ears. It was faint, but in this place, noticeable. And considering how tall Aster was, and how long his ears were, there was only one person whose body heat could be felt head to toe.

**_"I won't fit in the tunnels,"_** Jack grumbled.

Aster clenched his teeth, half in sudden frustration, and half to keep from smiling. "You don't want to go, so don't."

**_"I... want to. If..."_** Jack actually looked pleading. **_"You won't leave me alone?"_**

He breathed out in a quiet sigh. "No." Feeling greatly daring, he reached up and put one paw on the Ice Lord's shoulder. "I won't leave you alone. So." He cleared his throat, and stepped back. The pads of his fingers and palm were tingling from the brief contact. Must have been the cold, he supposed, not that Jack was overly chill or- focus, Aster. "If you can't go through the tunnels, how will you travel?" He quirked his lips sideways in an almost smile. "Should've thought about that before I asked you out."

Jack gave him an odd look for a moment, before shaking his head. **_"I can fly,"_** he said, somewhat doubtfully. **_"I could probably carry you."_**

"Or not," Aster muttered. "I'm not comfortable with... heights." More that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of falling. And _especially_ not comfortable at the thought of hitting the ground.

Jack reached up and tugged at his hair, the wild blue strands making quite the contrast against his pale fingers. Aster blinked, and realized he'd said something, but he had no idea what.

The Ice Lord gave him an odd look. **_"What do pencils have to do with anything?"_**

"Never mind. Artist. Ignore me."

Jack looked as though he were considering rolling his eyes, and then apparently decided against it. **_"If I am to accompany you, I must travel to your location. And flying... is not as fast as I would like."_**

"How do you normally get places, then?"

**_"I do not."_** He shrugged one massive shoulder, as though it didn't matter. **_"But... I might have an idea..."_**

Aster found an appropriately shady spot, and pulled the small ball of glowing snow from the pocket on his bandolier. It glimmered, much like Sandy's sand, although blue, not yellow. The snow wasn't cold, either; faintly chill, yes, but not _cold_. Just holding the ball made him want to smile.

Jack had said to throw the snowball on the ground, and he'd be able to use it to travel in the blink of the eye. Aster hadn't said much about the idea; he wanted it to work, even if he thought it wouldn't. That sort of dimensional travel was tricky to figure out. It had taken decades to perfect his own tunnels, and the less said about testing North's snow globes, the better.

Still, he had agreed to the idea.

Aster tossed the snowball up once, caught it, and chucked it at the ground.

The snowball hit, and _exploded_.

Thick frost crackled across the ground, wrapped up around the tree trunks, but Aster could barely see it because of the snow whirling about through the air. He raised his hands up to protect his face, and squinted his eyes mostly shut. The wind tore at his fur, and particles of ice got through to his skin.

And then it all stopped.

He lowered his hands, and opened his eyes, slowly, carefully.

The Ice Lord was there... and doubled over with one hand over his mouth, his other arm wrapped about his stomach.

"You alright there, mate?" Aster asked.

**_"Vertigo-"_** Jack gasped, and clenched his eyes shut. **_"It'll pass."_**

Vertigo was a lot better than a few other things that could've happened. Aster hummed, and walked across the already melting ice to Jack's side. Poor bloke. He brushed at the tangled mane, and then started picking at the ends. With a comb and a few hours, he could probably get rid of the worst snarls. At least it wasn't matted.

Jack straightened up, taking his hair out of reach. **_"There. That's better. I shall have to practice that, I think."_**

"You ever traveled that way before?"

**_"No. This is Canada?"_ **

Aster didn't flinch, only because he had too much control over his body to show his surprise so openly. "Yeah. Been here before?"

Jack peered closely at one leafy sapling. **_"I cannot recall. It is very... green."_**

"It's supposed to be." Aster grinned, at the situation and at Jack's doubtful expression, and then caught the Ice Lord's arm. "C'mon, the ruins are this way. Used to be an old logging town. Couple buildings still around, but the plants have taken it back with a vengeance!"

He dragged the winter spirit in his footsteps, managing only by force of enthusiasm, he suspected. Jack outweighed him by a few hundred pounds, which was kind of odd when he thought about it. And yet not odd at all, considering Jack was taller and much broader.

But- flying. How was that even _possible_? Jack didn't have wings, and he must have weighed half a ton.

Aster shook his head, and shook the questions off like water. He rambled through the overgrown streets, leading the way. Jack made an amazing sounding board. Even if he didn't say much in reply, he listened closely while Aster debated with himself over just what he should concentrate on sketching- the wreck of a mom 'n pop corner store with the oak tree growing up through the roof, or the vines curled around the broken lamp posts, or the pond where a parking lot had used to be?

He settled for a short office building with ivy climbing up the side, broken windows and broken doors revealing the overgrown wreckage inside. Animals had used it as a haven, clearly, and every so often a bird winged out through the broken windows up on the top floor.

Jack lurked in the background while he got settled, sketchpad on his lap and pencil held carefully between his fingers. After a bit, Aster was aware of the Ice Lord's departure, but never very far away.

The image in his mind began to take shape on the paper, first a few wispy lines, and then firmer strokes, greater detail. Heavy eyebrows and a firm jaw...

Aster paused, and really _looked_ at what he was drawing.

The Ice Lord's portrait stared back.

"What?" That wasn't what he'd meant to draw! Some good work, to be sure, but not at all what he'd intended!

Aster shook his head, and flipped to the next page. He'd go back and finish the portrait later. Put in the detail, the hair tangled around Jack's long fingers, the thoughtful look in his eyes- no! Concentrate on the building, Aster. What you came to _draw_?

Some days, he thought.

He'd just gotten back into the artistic mindset, sketching out the square of the building that had been softened by vines, when he heard the chatter.

"Oh no," he mumbled, and looked around for Jack. The Ice Lord was studying a slender beech sapling, as though he had never seen one before. Perhaps he hadn't, or at least, didn't remember if he had. "Jack?"

He looked away from the tree. **_"Yes?"_**

Aster scrambled over to the Ice Lord's side. "We'll have company in a touch."

**_"Company?"_ **

He shook his head, and watched the avenue. In short order two spirits came into view; one a short, almost dumpy faun with coppery fur on his haunches and short little horn-buds on his forehead, and the other a tall, willowy fire spirit of some sort, with 'hair' made out of actual fire. He didn't recognize them, but that wasn't surprising.

**_"Who are they?"_** Jack asked. **_"... And why are you trying to hide behind me?"_**

"The faun's a spring spirit," Aster mumbled, ears drooping. "And the other one's a summer spirit of some type."

**_"I see,"_** Jack said, his tone saying he really didn't. He folded his arms and watched the two spirits.

Their expressions when they caught sight of Jack were something, at least. Aster smiled a bit to himself. The faun looked ready to bolt, while the fire headed one looked nervous. Mind, he wasn't too happy about anyone being frightened of Jack, but- well, they were two of the people who'd been driving him crazy all last year! It wasn't wrong to get a _little_ satisfaction out of seeing them so discombobulated.

"What- what is that?" the fire spirit asked. She clutched her faun companion's arm, eyes very wide.

Aster frowned at Jack's flinch. "This would be the Ice Lord, Jack Frost," he said, and stepped out in front of Jack.

"The-" The faun looked even more frightened, if that were possible. "We should go," he told his companion.

The fire spirit didn't look worried any more. "It's not winter! It should go," she said, and pointed at Aster. "You're not being held captive, are you?"

"What? No!" He caught Jack's wrist in one hand, and held on tight. "And _he_ has just as much right to be here as anyone! More, since I invited him."

"Actually," the faun said, and sneered. "It _should_ go! It's a monster- it'll frighten the locals."

**_"Kangaroo,"_** Jack murmured, **_"I could-"_**

"Be run off?" Aster asked. "No. I won't let it happen." He glowered at the two spirits. "Only ones unwelcome here are _you_."

The fire spirit hissed, and stalked forward. "You are so selfish, Bunny! You won't let us look at your art- and now this?"

Summer spirits. Hair trigger tempers. Aster clenched his teeth, but didn't let go of Jack's wrist. "My art's private. No means no. And Jack's being here is none of your business. Now rack off!"

The faun narrowed his eyes. "You're not mounting it, are you?"

Mount- "Trust a faun to think of that," Aster snarked. "How long until you switch to autumn and become a grown up satyr?"

**_"Mounting?"_** Jack asked.

"Sex."

**_"_** **Sex _?"_** Well. Now he knew exactly how high pitched Jack's voice could go. **_"You and- that would- and-_ sex _?"_**

The faun laughed. "Maybe it's been _clipped_."

**_"Hey!"_ **

"No. Unlike you," Aster pointed out. The faun looked outraged.

"Enough of this," the summer spirit said. She pulled a sword from- somewhere, it was fire, entirely possible she'd _made_ it- and pointed the tip at Jack's face. "Get out of here or I'll make you!"

"You're not making him do anything!" The Pooka stalked forward, boomerang in one hand and the other clenched into a fist. "Only ones leaving are you!"

The summer spirit's face twisted up with rage. "Oh! Oh, you- you make me so mad!"

Then she swung the sword.

Aster sneered; he was far enough away it didn't matter. She couldn't hit him even if she wanted to.

And then the blade lengthened.

**_"Roo!"_** Something pulled him back, and then he was spun around, and fire sprayed up and around whatever was behind him. Aster staggered forwards, and turned to look.

Jack was between him and the two spirits, shoulders still hunched from the sword hitting them. He looked- quite fierce, but for once the force of his ire didn't make Aster want to freeze. He stepped closer, and suddenly it seemed impossible to get enough air.

**_"You,"_** Jack growled, and straightened up to his full height. He turned around slowly. **_"You will leave. Now."_**

"You can't-"

**_"I can. I will. I have. Now-_** **go _!"_** Jack roared the last word, so loud Aster half expected leaves to fall from their trees from the force.

The faun ran immediately. The summer spirit remained a defiant half-second, before bolting after her companion. The moment they were out of sight, Jack sagged and waved one hand. Tiny fires had sprung up, after the summer spirit had hit him and the flames had sprayed about. Ice spread, quickly surrounding each tiny flame, then icing over each spot.

Aster finally caught his breath. "Jack! Are you hurt?"

**_"No."_** The Ice Lord looked around, and then cringed. **_"I'm sorry, Kangaroo."_**

What? Oh... the brief scuffle had caused a bit of damage to the plants. The closest were singed _and_ frozen both, and several of the smaller saplings had broken, and flowers had been uprooted. He wasn't too certain how _that_ had happened, but perhaps the faun had tried something.

**_"It's broken,"_** Jack murmured, and propped up the beech sapling he'd been looking at earlier.

Well, yes. That happened sometimes. Aster almost waved it all off, and then thought better of it. "Dinged up some, but- here. You can help me with all this. Few things just need replanted is all."

**_"And the burns? And the ice?"_ **

"Those will heal. By next year you won't be able to tell what happened."

In reasonably short order, Aster walked Jack through propping up the saplings so they didn't topple over, and replanting the flowers. He trimmed away the worst of the burnt-and-frozen bits himself, and tore the leaves up and scattered them on the ground for eventual fertilizer.

**_"Maybe I shouldn't have accompanied you after all,"_** Jack said. **_"I only caused you trouble."_**

"Sit down and let me look at your back. And stop acting like the world's only living brain donor!" Aster huffed. "Those two have been annoying me all last year, they'd have caused trouble even if you weren't here."

**_"Is that why you asked me along?"_ **

Aster thought of the half-finished sketch, and sighed. "One of the reasons. I also like your company. Now sit _down_ so I can look at your _back_."

Jack tilted his head back. **_"But-"_**

"Just sit your bleeding arse down, Frostbite!"

Jack sat down.

"Good." Aster rubbed one hand down the back of his neck, smoothing down the fur. "Now just hold still." Jack's shoulders were very broad, and each muscle was clearly defined, even with him relaxed. Aster trailed his claws very carefully over the Ice Lord's skin, seeking out the burns and cut that had to be there.

**_"That tickles,"_** Jack mumbled.

"Sorry. You don't seem to be hurt."

**_"It was only fire and iron. The fire was too fast to burn, and iron tends to break."_** Jack sighed. **_"Ice can cut through my skin, but only at certain spots."_**

That made sense, from a certain angle, Aster supposed. "You're really alright?"

**_"I-"_** Jack ducked his head. **_"I should probably get back to my fortress."_**

"What, because of two rude, good for nothing spirits?" Aster crouched down a little, his head for once above the Ice Lord's. "Jack, mate- there's no reason for you to go. And every reason for you to stay."

**_"But I-"_ **

"They want to drive you away. Don't let them, mate."

Jack looked away, his eyes suspiciously shiny. **_"Wouldn't it be easier?"_**

He moved slow and careful, and wrapped both arms around Jack's neck in a hug. The poor man went stiff with shock. Aster waited him out, waited to speak, until Jack's arms wrapped around him in return. "But would it make you happy? You seemed to be enjoying yourself, before."

**_"I... was."_ **

"Then how about this. We'll take a quick trot up to Osoyoos, and Spotted Lake. Don't think it's quite all the way spotted just yet, but it'll be fun. How about that?"

**_"How far away is Osoyoos?"_ **

Aster chuckled, and rested his cheek against Jack's shoulder. "It'll give you a chance to practice your traveling, let's put it that way."

Jack stood up, and for a second Aster hung from his neck like a very strange necktie. And then they both let go of each other, and Aster slid down to the ground. **_"Then you had best get started."_** Jack held up one hand, and another snowball. **_"I'll follow."_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of how good NaNo's going (long story short- I'm ahead.) and of Winter Rose just hitting 70k worth of words (yes)... Have a chapter.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

It was well that winter in the southern hemisphere was summer in the north. Jack found himself dragged out and about by the rabbit. He saw more of the world in three months than he had in four centuries. North America, Eurasia, parts of the Middle East and Caribbean. It was not every day; perhaps one day in three, or four, that he was dragged outside to 'get some sun'.

The rabbit became Kangaroo, who became 'Just Bunny'. And as Bunny shoved Jack out into the world, the other Guardians conspired to pull him into theirs.

The bird-woman invited him to her palace, with arch comments about his fictional weakness to heat, and cups of spiced tea. They talked, Jack slow and halting, her bright and enthusiastic, about what little he remembered of his history. Much of it was of his time as a spirit- and how strange to remember having _toes_ , of all things- but there were hints and shadows and the shape of humanity woven through it all.

**_"I herded clouds,"_** he told her. **_"It was like herding sheep, only sheep are far more stubborn."_**

"You were a shepherd?"

**_"I suppose I must have been."_ **

She became one in whom he could confide his secrets. Even the secrets he hadn't realized he'd kept.

Like the thing with _men_. And his shame.

"You know that it's considered natural, now? To like others of your gender, love them?"

**_"But it was wrong then, and- I tried so hard to be good! But I... I never was."_ **

"Oh, Jack. You are a good man. Believe me."

It took her time, but he finally began to believe that she was right. And as she convinced him, she became Tooth, his friend, and not Toothiana, keeper and guardian of memories.

The sand-man, too, spent time with him. They traveled the night skies, Jack carried on a flying carpet formed of golden sand. He suspected it was some joke only the guardian of dreams got, but did not argue. It was easier, and quieter, than travel upon the wind. Together, they visited the cities as they slumbered, the golden sand trickling through the air to give out their gift of good dreams.

The sand-man did not talk, not with words or hand signs, but his quiet companionship was a comfortable change from the others, who filled the silence with chatter. Jack had been alone for too long to be at ease with incessant noise. This, though, and the sand-man's cheerful company, was well enough.

Yet if Jack desired to comment, the sand-man would listen. If Jack created one of his ice creatures, to gambol and play with the sand-man's sand, the man would laugh and clap his hands. It was then that they discovered that the touch of Jack's frost changed the sand. Made it brighter, lash through the air like a cracking whip yet touch a sleeper's brow as gently as falling snow. Those dreams, they discovered, could make a distressed child smile, and could make a happy child wake laughing. Watching the children dream so, watching the sand he'd helped form- was it any surprise that the sand-man became Sandy?

A trusted friend, and one whose efforts Jack could aid. On nights when Bunny did not seek him out, Jack often found himself searching for Sandy. Occasionally, he even traveled to the former wishing star's side.

Those occasions became more frequent as the months went on.

St. North was the tricky one, the one Jack felt the least comfortable with. He had given Jack his cloak and his stuffed rabbit, and four hundred and fifteen years worth of coal. He was the one who had ignored- deliberately or not- Jack for that span of time. He was the one seemingly most eager to patch up over their bad history. Not ignoring it, but not dwelling on it.

Jack had a standing invitation to visit the workshop, which at the least was the _easiest_ of all the Guardians' homes to reach. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Even in summer, the place was busy; yeti working at a feverish pace, elves running everywhere, and wherever he looked there was noise and movement and color and-

The one time he'd tried to have a conversation with St. North in the actual workshop, he'd ended up charging right back outside.

Through a wall.

It had taken several weeks of concentrated effort for St. North to convince Jack to return. It had devolved, in part, to their earlier history. Jack hadn't gone quite so far as to throw his throne at St. North's head again, but ice daggers made a reappearance.

"What was it that unnerved you?" St. North asked.

**_"I was not frightened!"_ **

"I never said you were."

St. North was persistent, though, and managed to wrinkle out enough hints to form a picture. After that, he managed to drag Jack back to the Workshop by force of will, but only to the living quarters. It was still too much, after the decades upon decades of time spent in his somber fortress, even the living quarters being overly bright and colorful, but he could tolerate it.

In the living quarters, Jack would often lounge on the largest furniture he could, modern couches and older divans, and the talk frequently turned to literature. He was not alone in being a bibliophile, it seemed. It was fitting that now he remembered what he read, he had someone with whom to speak of it. They did not read the same things, which surprised him not at all. St. North preferred Russian and German literature, with a side of old Norse sagas and- surprisingly- historical romances. Jack preferred fantasy and science fiction, alternate histories and anything and everything that distracted him from his situation. They both read books on magic, of course, but that was more in the line of work than pleasure.

 When they didn't speak of books, St. North tended to insist the conversation focus on ice carving. Jack humored the man. And, after enough urging, tried his hand at _actual_ ice carving, instead of using his magic.

St. North was very put out that Jack's efforts were still better than his. Jack considered admitting he'd cheated, even so, and decided against it. It was far too amusing to mess with the man's mind.

Whenever St. North lost the carving competitions, he would have drinks brought out. Jack never accepted. St. North made enough of a fool for them both.

"You are always so formal," St. North complained. "Why must you always call me St. North?"

**_"Because it is your name. Would you rather I call you Nicholas?"_ **

"Nick, maybe. Or North. Why you not call me North?"

Jack sighed. **_"Because that is a direction, not a name."_**

St. North glowered at the air just to the left of Jack's ear. "Well, I will not answer to St. anything from now on!"

For the rest of the night, Jack called him 'Gertrude'. St. North found it _hilarious_.

And yet, perhaps because of the man's insistence, Jack found himself referring to 'North' more and more frequently, as the others did, instead of the more formal 'St. North'. He brooded upon the matter, but that only solidified the change in address in his mind. He finally gave it up as a lost cause, and the Santa Claus was thereafter 'North'.

Through it all was Bunny, the start and the end of the changes, in Jack's opinion. The rabbit had befriended him first, had been the first to draw him out of his fortress and back into the world. The rabbit spent the most time with him; Tooth and Sandy worked all night, every night, and North prepared for Christmas and watched the children of the world for naughty and nice behavior. Bunny, so far as Jack was aware, spent some little time gardening, and the rest traveling about making his art.

The overgrown kangaroo occasionally seemed _jealous_ of all the time Jack spent with the other Guardians, yet delighted at the same time. The Ice Lord finally decided he was reading the inhuman face wrong, and gave it little thought. Surely Bunny knew he was Jack's favorite out of them all?

Bunny showed him the world, the beauty in it, every time they went out on another trip. Bunny showed him kindness, and protected him from those spirits that would have chased him off. Bunny told him he had a right to walk freely beneath the open sky- which the others echoed, yes, but Bunny said it _first_.

As the summer turned to autumn, Jack found his heart, that treacherous and weak organ, beat faster in the rabbit's presence. As his duties began to consume more and more of his time, he began to miss the rabbit more than he should have. The soft plush, meant to look like Bunny, provided some little comfort, but not nearly enough. He became restless whenever the guardian of hope was not nearby, within sight or hearing.

Had it interfered with his work, he would have rooted the emotions out and frozen them. And yet, despite the disquiet, he found himself able to work as diligently as ever. Autumn was not so trying a time as winter proper in the northern hemisphere, the northern winter spirits being the strongest, most numerous, and the cruelest, but he brought a new energy to the task that would continue on until spring lessened his duties once more, he suspected.

And for that, he had the Guardians to blame. Most particularly his favorite, Bunny.

Jack considered his globe, and began to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit more of a summary chapter, but as you can see, Jack is warming up to the Guardians! (For those of you who want to see him have an emotional break down... it's coming. I actually have it planned for chapter... twenty-six, twenty-seven? Around there.)
> 
> (Yes, folks, this is going to be a long one.)


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Aster woke up, and realized he wasn't dead. He also wasn't healthy, but he'd known that for the past- how long had it been, anyways? He'd spent days, at least, sleeping the sleep of the deeply ill, waking up just long enough to eat a little, then collapse from exhaustion again. It wasn't possible for him to get actual rabbit illnesses, but sometimes he wondered if the buggers didn't try anyways.

For the first time since he'd gotten sick, he actually thought he'd stay awake more than an hour or two. He felt better. Not all the way back to normal, but not about to fall back asleep, either. Eating _probably_ wouldn't make him collapse.

He rubbed a paw against his forehead, and then looked at it. His paw was a bit smaller than it was supposed to be. Wasn't his paw supposed to be a hand?

Aster blinked. Looked at the arm his paw was attached to. Blinked again.

And promptly cursed fit to turn the air blue.

"Strike me bloody handsome!" His sides heaved as he caught his breath. "No, no- not now! Not this!"

He'd been reduced to the size of a _kit_. A bleeding kit! Strewth, but he _hated_ when this happened! Maybe once every five, six centuries he'd get so sick his magical core got depleted fighting the illness off, and next thing _he_ knew he was barely six pounds and the size of one of those little rat-dogs women carried around in their purses!

He groaned, and headed for the kitchen. Sooner he had some tucker, the quicker he'd be back to normal.

Of course, being as small as he currently was made _getting_ the food something of an adventure. All of his storage was up off the floor, typically at waist height or higher- when he was healthy. He hated bending over to get things out of the cupboards; hated it with the passion of a thousand blazing suns. None of his counters had cupboards beneath them. He used the space underneath for storage of large things he used just regularly enough- like the copper tub for doing the laundry, or the diagnostic equipment for the egg golems- or things too big or irregularly shaped to fit in his few closets.

He had to climb up onto the table, and then take a flying leap onto the nearest countertop. He had to pick his way through the debris of previous meals; being sick meant he hadn't done much by cleaning up after himself, not that he was normally over-fond of the activity in the first place. Generally, he washed dishes just enough he never quite ran out of plates or cutlery, but it was often a fine line. There was a stack of plates, another of bowls, and several glasses and mugs littering the counter nearest the sink. There was also, faintly, the scent of food scraps just starting to turn. He'd slept long enough for the vegetable peels and crumbs to start moldering, though with his nose that was still easily in the range of three or four days.

There were net bags of root vegetables and some fruit on the countertops, put there when he'd first realized his illness was going to be something of a doozy. It was easy enough to pull out a few carrots, turnips, and a single potato to munch on while he checked his calendar.

Most people assumed it was magic. It had no obvious power, no gears or computer chips, and not only told him what day it was, but could tell him what time it was in any part of the world. It was also the size of an average human wrist watch, perhaps a bit smaller.

Aster paused mid-chew. After a second's thought, he double checked by tapping the calendar screen. His appointment list came up, and- he winced- North's Thanksgiving party had been put in for late afternoon ending sometime tomorrow morning.

"That's _today_?" he asked, after he'd swallowed.

Damn, damn, and triple damn. Normally, he'd have no problems letting North know he wasn't going. Heck, most of the time he didn't bother with a notice, he just didn't go. Period. He wasn't fond of crowds, except at egg hunts, under normal circumstances anyways. Pair the crowds with the conflicting scents of all sorts of vegetable dishes (delicious) and then the inevitable turkey and other prepared meats (horrifying), and, well, it wasn't an enjoyable experience. And, of course, all the spirits would expect him to know their names, and most of the time he couldn't guess their season or what they represented!

This year, though, Jack was going. North had invited him, and it hadn't taken very much urging for the Ice Lord to decide on taking a risk. Aster had promised he'd be there, to help support him.

He'd _promised_.

Aster finished his turnip, and shoved the rest of the raw vegetables aside. He'd eat at North's. If he wanted to make the party anywhere near in time, he had to leave now.

Surprisingly enough, traveling through his tunnels at something like a fifth of his regular height, made the trip seem five times as long.

The distance was the same; the distance was _always_ the same. But he was small, and had to _hop_ \- like an earth rabbit, of all things- and he was still tired and feeling somewhat ill. He wasn't sure exactly how long it took him, but by the time he reached the North Pole it had probably been closer to three hours of travel than two. And nowhere near his usual half-hour to get anywhere.

The only bright side was, at six pounds, he was able to go over the top of the snow, instead of slogging through it.

It took several tries before he was able to kick the door hard enough to get the yeti on duty's attention. The poor creature looked very confused when it got the door open. Aster hopped on passed, with a casual- as casual as he could get, considering he felt more than half frozen and was shaking almost too hard to speak- "thanks, mate" tossed over his shoulder.

Inside, of course, the sudden warmth thawing him out about sent him into a nap. He dragged himself onwards, ears drooping and all. If he stopped to rest, to catch his breath, he'd fall asleep for sure. And then no one would find him until his magical core had restored itself enough for him to be full sized again.

Making his way through North's Workshop was almost as exhausting as traveling had been.

Also, stairs were evil.

He managed, somehow, to get all the way to where most of the partiers had gathered. By this hour, he figured a few couples- or triads or quartets or even more, he wasn't the kind to judge- had already taken advantage of North's myriad of guest rooms and large storage closets. The yeti had refused, once again, to attend the party; they never had any of the years he had attended, and from everything he'd heard that was the norm. While his point of view was limited to something like ankles, knees, and far up a few nostrils, his sense of smell still worked and his nose told him the yeti were downstairs and staying there. The guest rooms would be cleaned by the elves, who didn't care about noise, crowds, or suspicious stains on the sheets.

Aster looked around, took a few careful sniffs, and promptly winced. Finding Jack in all of this would be difficult. There were personal scents, floral scents, perfume, whatever the elves used to polish the floorboards, and food, all mingling together. Sorting it out would take forever, and he didn't have that much time.

Maybe if he started in places where Jack would most likely be? Out on the balcony, or lurking in a corner-

"Oooh, look, it's so cute!"

Aster looked up, eyeballed the dryad, and hissed. "Don't even think about it," he grumbled. The dryad paused, one hand outstretched, her expression shifting from gushing over the fluffy bunny to confused. "Any of you sheilas seen a nine foot tall Ice Lord around anywhere?"

The cluster of dryads all shook their heads, looking baffled. "There's a tall guy over near the punch table?" one of them, the one who'd first tried to pet him, offered.

"Thanks." Aster hurried past before any of them decided to ignore the talking and try scratching behind his ears. Of course, there were a lot more dryads than just those seven, and it seemed like they were all between him and the punch table. And if it wasn't dryads, it was sylphs, and a few women with red hair, or flames in place of, a few nymphs, and at least one banshee.

The banshee actually picked him up. He bit her on the wrist, and then staggered about drunkenly for a few minutes after the squawking died down. At least she hadn't screamed.

Where all the female spirits seemed almost drawn to his miniature self, the males seemed to deliberately not notice him. In between dodging hands and cooing, he also had to dodge _feet_. He got kicked more just crossing the room than when he'd first started sparring, and it was a real toss up if the bloke doing the kicking ever looked down.

Aster hissed, dodged another foot, and ducked under a table. The table cloth was some kind of fancy lace, probably antique, and covered with magic protecting against stains, stench, damage, and theft. It wasn't the best hiding spot in the world- anyone who looked closely would still be able to catch sight of him, and he hadn't tried to be sneaky about ducking under the table- but it would have to do for the moment.

He reached up and rubbed underneath one ear with a stubby paw. Strangely enough, being this small had a few advantages. He had less of a headache by this point than he usually did. The noise from the chatter was up over his head, not directly in his ears, and he thought he caught less of it than normal. Granted, he'd rather be six-foot-one again, because if he had to dodge one more kick or grope- and it _was_ groping, he was a sentient being and _did not_ want to be _touched_ \- he'd kill someone.

He sniffed at the underside of the table, and almost winced at the reek of alcohol. Punch table. He'd made it. And, going by the scent, the traditional spiking of the punch was well underway.

Another reason why he didn't like coming to these things. The various liquids got dosed with so much alcohol, even _water_ was flammable by the end of the night. He wasn't much of a drinker- couldn't stand the taste of most alcoholic beverages- and was something of a lightweight as a result. There'd been a few episodes early on horrific enough and embarrassing enough that the few times North managed to get him to join the party, he brought his own drinks.

It was a touch paranoid, but much safer.

Aster sighed, and checked the feet closest to the table. There were a few hoofed individuals, but those hooves were more like goat hooves, were too small, and the furry legs were goat-like and shades of brown. Fauns, not one Ice lord. He carefully edged out from under the table, and kept a wary eye out for hands and feet both.

Jack wasn't near the punch, he realized a few minutes later. There were too many people getting their drinks. Anywhere Jack was, there'd be some space, him being an intimidating figure and all.

Aster headed around the edge of the room, paused to check the first corner he passed, and then headed out onto the balcony. Inside, even with the doors open, the room was uncomfortably warm what with all the people, loud, and crowded. Out on the balcony, it was freezing cold, to the point where he was pretty sure he could feel his tail and nose going numb. It was also practically silent, except for the spillover noise from inside, and all but empty.

Jack stood at the railing, looking out over the snow fields, back to the door. Aster couldn't see his expression, but could imagine it. The sight of those broad shoulders made him feel almost light headed with relief.

"Jack!"

The Ice Lord turned around, looking first relieved, than confused. Aster frowned, before he realized the problem. Jack was looking around at head height, and even lower at dwarf height, but Aster was shorter still.

"Down here, ya drongo!" He crossed the balcony, lightly dusted with snow, and kicked Jack's leg a few times to make sure of his attention.

**_"Bunny?"_ **

Aster looked up, ready to make a snide comment, and almost winced before he realized that, whatever Jack had hidden beneath that loincloth, was still hidden thanks to some clever wrapping and shadows. Still, it had been a bit of a close call, and he backed up a few steps before he answered.

"Oh, just pick me up before someone steps on me," he grumbled. "Too many close calls already tonight."

Jack crouched down, and held out one broad hand for Aster to step onto. It was surprisingly secure, and Aster didn't feel much of his usual unease at not having the earth beneath his feet when Jack stood up. When Jack brought him close to his chest, and cupped his other hand over Aster's back, the remnants of his unease completely went away.

It was strange, but he certainly wasn't going to complain.

Not for the first time, Aster noticed Jack's skin was surprisingly warm, considering he was the absolute ruler of winter. A casual layperson would have assumed his touch would be as cold as the ice he wielded, but he radiated heat like banked coals. Even his hands, which were chilly compared to the rest of him, were merely tepid instead of cold.

**_"Whatever happened to you?"_** Jack asked. He stroked a careful finger over Aster's ears, which... actually felt really good, so he didn't protest.

He shrugged, as best he could. A quadruped's build wasn't exactly good for that sort of thing, though it was good for speed. One reason why Pooka kits started out that way; gave 'em a good shot at making it to adolescence.

Gallifrey had been a lovely planet, really, and his home, but- it'd been dangerous. Parents hadn't ever gotten _too_ close to their offspring, at least not until the kits started shifting to bipedalism. At that point, it was safe to presume the kit would survive and not, say, get eaten by the fauna _or_ flora.

"Just a cold," he said, and absolutely did not snuggle down into Jack's hand. The Ice Lord smirked, and adjusted his hold so Aster could huddle up better, which, while appreciated, hadn't been necessary. Really. It wasn't like he was trying to curl up so every bit of his fur touched Jack's or anything.

Even if he _was_ very warm.

And comfortable.

And smelt nice.

**_"A cold?"_** Jack asked. His hands tightened around Aster, but not in an uncomfortable way. **_"How do you mean?"_**

"Every couple decades or so some bug or other hits me. Not that Earth diseases could do me in, but I swear the bastards try." Aster uncurled, and stretched up on his hind legs to nuzzle at Jack's collarbone. He'd meant for under the chin, but he could only reach so far. He paused a moment, and sniffed carefully at Jack's skin. Just what was that tangle of scents? Pine was in there, somewhere, and snow... He sank back down onto his haunches, and curled up into a comfortable ball. He'd think on it.

**_"So this has nothing to do with physical temperature."_** Jack went back to stroking Aster's ears, very carefully.

"Nah." Aster closed his eyes, and ground his teeth in a purr. Actually, this was all very nice. "I pro'lly caught it when we hit New Mexico's old testing grounds. Couple of days and she'll be apples, but until then I'll be small and fuzzy."

**_"And cute,"_** Jack said, smiling.

"Oy." Aster glared up at him. "'M not cute."

**_"You are absolutely adorable. You are so cute I could die."_** Jack kept with the stroking, and- well, there wasn't much point in getting upset, was there? Just because he didn't like it being pointed out, didn't mean it wasn't true. He was, currently, _cute_. He yawned, and Jack must have caught it. **_"If you are tired, you can sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to eat."_**

"Well." That sounded lovely, actually. "I don't want to put you out, mate."

**_"You won't. It is... nice, out here. And I can watch the other guests through the doors. That is more than enough, for now."_ **

"Any of them tried bothering you?" Aster growled. He chattered his teeth a few times; his tail doing its damnedest to swish back and forth with annoyance.

**_"Not after North greeted me, no. But they won't talk to me, either."_ **

Aster grunted, and muttered under his breath about empty headed nymphs and fauns and settled down for a quick nap.

His nap lasted longer than he'd expected, but dinner had apparently been delayed thanks to the elves. He felt better for the sleep, though, which was something.

For dinner, he sat with Jack. Or rather, on the table in front of Jack. For his part, the Ice Lord was as courteous as could be, serving Aster the choicest of vegetarian meals. It was only halfway through the dinner that Aster realized Jack hadn't been eating, or doing much more than taking small sips of water. Jack had actually been deep in conversation with his neighbor, a gnarled, old spirit from Norway or Iceland or something like that. Something about the current pattern of cloud distribution? Over Aster's head, certainly. He was about plants and the soil. He knew the basics about anything to do with the weather, but only that, the basics.

He ate slowly, considering Jack's lack of appetite. It wasn't just distraction, he decided. The Ice Lord was very deliberately not eating. But why? Was it the food? Or- or was it something else? Whatever it was, it wasn't something to ask about at the moment. After the party, perhaps.

After the party, however, he about fell asleep again in Jack's arms. He was too tired to open a tunnel, even, so Jack borrowed a snow globe from North.

"Here's fine," Aster mumbled, once they were in the Warren. It'd be safe enough to sleep out in the open here, if he were so inclined. Or he could meander on back to his burrow, whichever he chose to do in the end.

**_"Are you certain?"_** Jack hesitated, large hands cradling Aster. It should have been insulting, but... it really wasn't.

"'M sure, yeah."

Jack set him down on the grass, and remained crouched over for a minute, just stroking along Aster's back. Finally, he stood up straight. **_"Feel better,"_** he said, and gestured with one hand. A thick layer of hoarfrost covered the ground, and Jack stepped onto the patch. Another gesture, and he vanished, doubtless to Antarctica and his fortress.

Aster sat up on his haunches, and stared at the ice.

It should have annoyed him. The entire _party_ should have annoyed him. Instead, once he'd found Jack, he'd felt... comfortable. At peace, even. And now, this- ice in his Warren, which would no doubt blight that patch of grass- he couldn't even think of why he _should_ be irritated with Jack. He'd been cuddled, carried like a kit, grass had been blighted... but it was alright, because it'd been Jack.

One of his stone golems lumbered up to stand at his side, face twisted about to show neutral.

"Dunno," he admitted, and started moving slowly towards his burrow. The golem trudged along behind him. "But whatever it is, it's powerful strong."

Mere friendship wasn't enough for him to overlook the coddling or the damage to his plants. The grass was just grass, but it was also _his_. Part of the Warren. Part of the greatest tribute to spring and Easter there was, a place where there shouldn't be any dead plants- perhaps with the occasional exception, such as a dead tree covered in climbing, flowering vines.

He huffed, and concentrated on making it back to his burrow before he gave up and slept under a bush or something. Not that it'd be uncomfortable or anything, but between the ground and his nest, he knew which he preferred. Besides, roughing it- there was having bed head all over his body, and then there was brushing dirt and twigs out of his fur. The one meant he had to use a brush every morning, without fail; the other itched something awful.

Aster had to climb his golem, in order to trip the door latch. The golem did its best to make the whole thing easy for him, but it wasn't an experience he'd ever want to repeat. All the same, he couldn't regret going to the party and spending the time with Jack.

At some point, he needed to figure out how to introduce the human children to the Ice Lord. Hadn't that been one of the reasons why he'd retreated to Antarctica? Not just the loss of- of hope and all, but how everyone walked through him. Aster had experienced that himself, a few times yonks back, adults and former believers going through him. It always felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart and twisted the blade a dozen times or so. Jack said he didn't care he was invisible to all the mortals, but Aster was certain he wasn't misreading the longing in the man's eyes. He wanted to speak with the humans, and have them respond.

That project would likely have to wait until after Easter, though. Things would be ramping up to Easter prep soon. His holiday would be early this year, and there was the planting to do, and then he'd have to perfect the chocolate recipes for this year, and- he'd have more time to work on the kids, and on Jack, afterwards.

He shuffled into the nest, and curled up under his blanket. He'd stay close to home for the next few days, but once he was his proper size and shape, he'd head up to Antarctica and check on Jack.

Aster had almost fallen asleep when a thought occurred to him. He sat bolt upright in bed.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, his mind throwing together disparate bits and pieces- Jack's scent, the blighted grass that hadn't bothered him, the cuddling, and his near desperation to get to the party because Jack would be there and alone- and coming to a surprising conclusion. "Bloody hell. I'm in love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, I have updated the list of Kink Meme Prompts on the first chapter, to include the inspiration for this chapter's events. Also, I'm pretending that I said, back before November started, that updates would continue as normal, instead of "only once a week" because that turned out to be a lie.
> 
> On the other hand, it's very nice being able to reach my daily word goals for NaNo and then turn around and work on Winter Rose chapters. (Chapter Twenty-Seven is done. Also, the first big fight is done.)


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Things didn't look better the next morning. Or the morning after it. In fact, by the time he had fully recovered from his illness and regained his proper appearance, it was evident that he was, in fact, screwed.

And not in the fun way.

Aster thought about the jugs of hard cider stored down in his cellar, but headed outside for some gardening instead. Last thing he needed was a head after a long afternoon of drinking.

He weeded his personal garden for a few minutes, and then sat back on his heels. No. The _last_ thing he needed was to get drunk, then wander over to Jack's and confess everything. Jack was... Well, his four centuries of isolation hadn't done him any good. He kept giving Aster odd looks, like he couldn't understand why he was being dragged out into the middle of the forest, or why these people kept showing up to keep him company.

And when Jack found out... Aster couldn't imagine the Ice Lord taking it well.

He lowered his head into his hands, ears drooping down his back. It wasn't hopeless, nothing about this situation was _hopeless_ , but... it didn't look good, either.

He couldn't tell Jack what he felt. It wouldn't end well.

But...

He lifted his head, and stared unseeing at the row of tomato plants. Perhaps he could _show_ Jack? Court the Ice Lord, properly. Not just as a Pooka would court another Pooka, but as a human would court a human. It could all crash and burn- or freeze, considering who he'd be courting- or it could end... with them together, Jack feeling the same for him.

It'd mean intimacy, Aster reminded himself, and started weeding again. Jack wasn't human-shaped, anymore, but he'd started out that way. He might not want to make with someone who looked like an animal.

For that matter... His love for Jack aside, did _he_ want to be with the _Ice Lord_? Physically?

Jack was- well, he was big. And strong. And had a very dominant personality. If the courtship worked- he just couldn't see Jack submitting to Aster. No, he'd be the one on top, in control from start to finish. The one to press into Aster, hold him down or hold him close, taking what he wanted and giving everything that he was...

And he was starting to peek out of his sheath. Aster huffed, and gave a few minutes' thought to moving the compost heap. Nothing like thoughts of rotting vegetables to kill one's libido. He smirked, and glanced down at his groin. Apparently he wasn't quite as against playing the submissive as he'd thought. It did help that Jack would have the largest donger he'd ever taken.

Not that he'd ever taken too many of those. But he hadn't hated the experience. His partners, sure, especially by the end of the relationships, but the experience itself hadn't been bad at all.

So, yes, he did want to be with Jack, physically. There'd been a healthy dose of lust there, and it wasn't like he'd let their relationship be only about the sex. It certainly wasn't as if he'd been thinking about sex while spending time with Jack up until now.

Although just what he'd do now that he was thinking about Jack, and sex, and just what sort of oils would be best for lube... He huffed, and shook his head. Eyeing a bloke because he had one of the most interesting set of cheekbones Aster had ever seen was one thing. Eyeing a bloke- eyeing _Jack_ \- because he wanted to imagine him in the nest was quite another.

Which was why he was going to court Jack, Aster reminded himself. So he didn't have to imagine Jack in his nest, but would have the real thing there. It'd be interesting, really. He hadn't ever slept with anyone bigger than he was. All his previous partners, male and female, had been smaller.

And human. But he wasn't about to think about how his own people hadn't wanted to touch him.

He sat back, and tossed the weeds into a bucket. That was one row done, and his lower back and shoulders were starting to ache pleasantly from the exertion. "That'll do."

He dumped the weeds on top of the compost heap, and left the bucket just inside his burrow's front door. It was about the right time for food, but he wasn't feeling very hungry yet. There was a small basket of strawberries just inside the pantry, and a crisp apple, so he munched on those and considered his options.

"Right," he said, and tossed the apple core in the bucket. He'd dump it on the compost heap when he gardened next. So, tomorrow morning, thereabouts. "I need a plan."

Courtship wasn't something you could just throw yourself at. That was like trying to go skydiving without a parachute, and figuring you could work something out before you hit ground. To do it proper, you had to work out a general plan, show your helpmate how you felt for them. You had to work out their likes and dislikes, had to show them you could take care of them, and that you'd put the effort in. It was showing off your best, admitting to your worst, and hoping that your helpmate could accept the one in order to have the other.

He couldn't just have at it with Pooka traditions, either. He had to include the human rituals, whatever they were, too. Something about- dance parties? He'd have to look into that. The last thing he needed was for Jack to misunderstand what he was about. Human courtship couldn't be too different from Pookan, could it?

... He drew the line at singing. There was no way in the bloody, buggering hells that he'd ever sing, even for Jack.

_Ever_.

_There is one final thing,_ the ice wyrm said. It stared up at Jack, patient as a glacier.

**_"What?"_** The Indian Ocean's recent troubles were a result of several upset ocean naiads, not Jack's purview at all. That was a relief. His own... subjects... had been quiet recently, which wasn't a relief at all. He preferred them out in front, where he could see them. The good behavior was enough to make him cranky.

His temper would have been better if Bunny had been visiting. North had dropped by, and Sandy had insisted on taking one of the ice phoenixes out with him for a few nights, but it wasn't the _same_. He did enjoy their company, but- they weren't Bunny.

Bunny insisted on trips to the strangest places- Canada, Oregon, something called a rainy basin, the Rain Forest (and got positively euphoric whenever he found new growth along the edges, which happened every five seconds)- and other places he didn't know how to describe. Wet lands, dry lands, hot lands, cold- not Jack's standard of cold, but still- lands; they visited by day and by night.

Jack was often used as something like a pack mule, which had somehow become _amusing_.

The ice wyrm shifted, and Jack's attention abruptly narrowed in on the construct. They did not _shift_. They did not _get comfortable_. They were animated statues; they had no need for comfort, no muscles to stretch... He narrowed his eyes.

_Your rabbit,_ the ice wyrm said. It sounded... amused.

Impossible. His creations had no emotions. Therefore, the wyrm could not be amused. It could not be _anything_.

**_"What,"_** he said, testing each word, **_"about_ the _rabbit?"_**

_It- it? She? He?_

Jack's grip tightened on the arms of his throne. **_"He."_**

_He._ The wyrm nodded. It _nodded_. The gesture should have been unnecessary, the pronoun should have been unnecessary, and the calculating look in the wyrm's eyes should not have _existed_. _He is healthy once more, but researching. Human libraries, with a sense of desperation._

Ice splintered beneath his fingers. **_"And... why do you tell me this?"_** He narrowed his eyes further. **_"I gave you no orders to watch him."_**

... Reptiles shouldn't shrug. It looked strange. Particularly with two pairs of shoulders on one body. _He is important to you._

Jack opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it without a word. Instead, he sat back and studied his creation. It had changed, slightly, and not only in stance or expression. It stood relaxed, slender whiskers furling and unfurling to either side of its face. There was a hint of color to its scales- green, purple, blue, all of it the washed out shades of colored ice. Had the physical proportions changed slightly? Longer legs than he'd intended, a shorter body, a thicker waist? He rather thought they had.

He had created his ice wyrms, animated them, but only to a point. They moved, as a statue would move, without the liquid grace of living creatures. They spoke, not as a living creature might, but as a- a computer program would, if he had the correct terminology. They did not think, they did not feel, _they_ _did not take initiative_.

And yet this one was different. Its motions were fluid, from whiskers moving in an absent breeze to the swaying of its tail. It had _inflection_ to its voice. Expression in its face.

**_"You are_ ** **alive _."_**

The ice wyrm froze, quite literally. Fog rolled off its back, where the warmer air hit its cold... flesh? What was the correct term? It had been made out of ice, as all his things were, but- it lived. And ice did not.

_... Yes,_ the creature admitted, shrinking back. _I achieved sentience several months prior._

He immediately wracked his memory, trying to recall if he'd destroyed any of his creations in the last few months. Or worse- had any of the ones he'd broken shown- signs of life?

_I am the only sentient of my form,_ the wyrm said. It lifted its head, and stared up into Jack's eyes. _All others are... puppets that I might control._

Jack nodded, and let the splinters fall from his grasp. He'd have to fix the arms of his throne later. Or replace them entirely. **_"Did I...?"_** Had he _killed_ any of his creations?

The ice wyrm shook its head. _I, as I, did not exist before. I, as I, became shortly before the summer solstice._

Ah. The tight clutch in his stomach, the not-quite-fear, eased. And then doubled, tripled, as he realized the implications.

**_"Polaris above, you're alive!"_** The throne tipped over from his haste, and he backed away from the low table as though it- and the ice wyrm perched upon it- were the most dangerous things he'd ever seen.

They weren't. That dubious prize went to something called a red-bellied rat snake, from Australia. Aster was fond of the creature, even though its venom was potent enough to hurt a spirit.

The ice wyrm blinked- _blinked_! He hadn't given it eyelids, and yet _there they were_ \- and tilted its head. _This is... displeasing to you?_ It shrank down a little, whiskers flattening against its muzzle and cheeks.

Jack stopped where he was, halfway to the wall, and swallowed. **_"It... frightens me,"_** he admitted.

It was so _big_. Life. This was his creation, and it was alive, and he had neither planned for nor desired such an outcome. His ice wyrms and ice phoenixes were meant to be tools, not companions. And yet. One had attained that special spark, that warmth, and lived.

**_"Oh, hell,"_** he said, mumbling through lips suddenly gone numb. **_"I think this means I'm a_ father _."_**

Something- someone- chortled, and a weight landed on his shoulder. He turned to look, and one of his ice phoenixes looked back.

He thought it was smiling.

_If you have this reaction to Loptr, I wonder how you will react to_ me _,_ the ice phoenix said.

Jack's legs gave out on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how thankful I am to CleverCorgi for making the title image and the line breaks? 'cause I am.
> 
> Random thought today has now been said.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Aster ducked around a yeti, stepped over a pair of squabbling elves, and thumped his fist once on North's door before heading in to his office.

"Perhaps I should take page from Ice Lord's book, start throwing things at people who do not knock." North didn't look up from the papers on his desk. Despite most everyone in the world having moved entirely to electronic files- the legal field was one holdout, and most governmental buildings across the world were too- Santa still used old fashioned quills and parchment for his Naughty and Nice lists. At least he used recycled parchment.

"North, I need your advice."

North blinked down at his papers several times, looked up at the ceiling, and scrunched his face up in- hopefully- exaggerated thought. "What was that? Bunny? You are asking _me_ for advice?"

Aster grimaced, and moved away from the door. "North!"

"Fine, fine, take the seat." North rubbed at his eyes with the fingers of one hand, and sighed. "What is so high and mighty Easter Bunny needing help with, then?"

Aster sat down in the uncomfortable visitors' chair, and grimaced. He tried, several times, to just spit it out, but his tongue refused to cooperate. He finally resigned himself to circling the subject, and sighed. His shoulders slumped. He looked down at his clasped hands.

"So, there's this bloke."

"Gah!" North jerked back so suddenly and violently, he almost lost his seat. "No! Not this! I am worst person for heart advice, you know this!"

Aster leaned forward. "There's no one else I can go to," he said, as desperate as he'd ever been. "I- I tried looking up human courtship in books, but- there's so _many_ , North! And I... I..."

The old Cossack huffed, and rubbed both hands over his face. Aster pretended to ignore the muttered "I'm too old for this". He was many, many times North's age, and yet! Clearly, _Aster_ wasn't too old for this nonsense, so North couldn't be either!

"Fine," North said. "This, eh, bloke. You like him. Why do you need courtship advice, anyways? Romance is about doing what you think is best, what you feel drawn towards. Poet writes poetry, chef makes special meals, and bunnies-"

"-Run circles around the bloke, clean his house, and bite his shoulder." Aster paused while North choked. "A lot of biting, actually," he said. Nibbling on Jack's shoulders... That'd be interesting. He wondered how the Ice Lord tasted.

"No biting early in relationship," North said, once he could breathe again.

"I know! I know humans don't do as Pooka. That's why I looked- only I don't know what I should do about it all, North!" Aster slumped over again. "Flowers, I can do flowers, but different cultures put different emphasis- emphasises? Emphasi? Different meanings, then, to different flowers. I want to tell him I fancy him, not that I want to put him in the 'friend-zone', whatever that means!"

North groaned, and nodded. "I know, I know... Okay. First, who is it you wish to court?"

Aster looked down at his hands. His mouth worked silently for a moment, before he whispered, "...Jack."

North frowned. "Jack? Jack Frost? ... The _Ice Lord_? Bunny-"

"Pretty sure I love him, mate."

"Of course you would say that," the human muttered. "Почему они думают узнал бы о романтике... Okay. So going with little bunny feelings are out, yes? Because of biting and circling and others you do not say."

Aster huffed. He was a Pooka, not a _little_ _bunny_. Well, not a bunny as in earth rabbit, at least. "North. What sort of flowers should I give him?"

"Is giving flowers all you want to do?" North pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, and dipped a worn-out quill into the pot of ink at his elbow. He smirked at Aster's confusion. "I know how much you like organization. So, we make plan."

That was how you knew someone was a friend or not, Aster thought, and smiled. They helped you plan out a courtship, even when it was so far beyond their comfort zone. "Of course I want to do more, I just haven't an idea as to what."

"Flowers... Chocolates..." North scribbled both items down on the paper, and then grinned. "Promises you don't intend to keep..."

"Wha- don't write that down!" Aster howled. "No!"

"What, you don't think is good idea? Very traditional, I promise you."

He growled, lips curled so far off his teeth his gums were visible. "No. I'm not going to break my promises to him."

"Good." North pointed his quill at Aster. "Start down that road, it will end in heartbreak, my friend. If you make promise, you must do what you can to _keep_ it. Only break your word if great harm would come from holding to it."

Of course the human would know; he'd been a bandit, but he'd had _integrity_. He'd stolen and thieved and taken captives, but neither he nor any of his men had ever harmed a woman or a child, they'd killed only when they'd had no other option or when their opponents were bullies and scum, and if things had been slightly different North would've been the Russian Tsar's right-hand man, honorable and incorruptible.

Instead, North had grown up in the wilderness, taken over a group of beaten and broken mercenaries, and become a legend. And now he gave out presents to children, with the occasional lump of coal for the naughty ones.

"Right," Aster said. "Flowers. Chocolates. Keeping my promises. And?"

"Long walks together, for enjoyment and company?"

"We're already doing that." Did that mean they were _already_ dating?

North half sighed, half chuckled. "Of course you are. Well... When dating, when _I_ was young man, there was touching and compliments, small gifts to show one's regard, yes? One dressed well, to show how a man could provide for a wife. Or, ah..."

"Its apples," Aster assured him. "I know what you mean." Except he didn't wear clothes, but... maybe he could fix up his coat, or... He wore only the most basic of kit these days, and even the newest bits, his leg wraps, were about fifty years old. Time to get out the old shine, it seemed; maybe do a better grooming than he usually put the effort to.

"And flirting," North said, eyebrows raised. "Do you even know how to flirt?"

Well, no. Not really. Aster looked doubtful. "Do I have to?"

"Is typically big, flashing sign that you are interested. Flirting does not have to be verbal, if warrior tongue would trip over the words. Can be physical, too. In how you stand, how you look at him, how you touch. Yes?"

He scrubbed a hand over his muzzle, and nodded. Yeah, he could probably manage that. He'd seen enough of his fellows flirting, way back when. Never with him, El-Ahrairah knew, but he'd watched. Pooka hadn't been all too shy when it came to their courtship, though it was generally accepted that the consummation would be in private.

"Wouldn't that involve drawing attention to my good features?" he asked, ears drooping. Mind, no one knew what a _proper_ Pooka was supposed to look like- not that anyone had ever been cruel or malicious, not intentionally, but after a bloke got passed over and ignored because he wasn't as tall or blatantly muscular as everyone else, and a bland nothing color... Well, it left marks, was all.

"Of course. Hm, what else..." North chewed on the end of the quill, and then made a face and spat out feather bits. "Why am I always doing that?"

Aster shook his head. "Can't say. Can we, ah, go back to the flowers?"

"Has he any favorites on your wanderings?"

Good question. As a matter of fact... Aster nodded slowly. Jack had shown a fondness for those plants that flowered late into autumn, and a few that kept their blossoms even into winter. Strangely enough, though, holly, mistletoe, and poinsettias were apparently right out. There would be a story there, once Jack remembered why he had that aversion.

He also could spend an hour or two staring at rose bushes, which was a while when you weren't a plant-obsessed head-case like Aster could be.

"That could work," he said, already figuring out how he'd start his efforts.

"Also, you are artist. Perhaps gifts in that direction?"

Of course! He shook his head, and smiled, feeling very foolish. "Should've thought of that myself."

North waved it off. "You are too close to problem, is all. Now, take this list, and go speak to Tooth."

"What?" Why would he...

"She will help you with how to flirt." North stood up, and patted Aster's shoulder. "You need all the help you can get, if you are to finally get a partner. Go now, I am very busy."

Aster headed out towards the snow and his tunnels. Talk to Tooth. Well, why not? North's advice had sounded good so far. How bad could it be?

"Is Jack an ass man or a leg's fan, do you know?"

Aster about bit off his tongue, he closed his mouth so fast. "Tooth!" He coughed a few times. "Why would you- I don't know!"

"It'd make things easier if you did." She turned, hovering in midair as she usually did, and rattled off a few directions to her fairies. "Oh, and bring my copy of the- yes, you know exactly what, good girl!"

"Copy of what?" Aster considered backing away, but- Tooth wanted to help. She did. Even if he wanted to cringe.

"Bunny, you need to know what Jack's attracted to. Fortunately you have fur- not that you can style it easily," Tooth said, and suddenly her hands were on his cheeks, forcing him to turn his head this way and that, "but it doesn't get mussed as easily as hair. Or feathers," she added as an afterthought.

"Lovie," he started, and then grimaced. "Tooth. Hands. Face. Please don't." Or she'd pry his mouth open and start poking at his teeth, which just- no. "Why would I want to style my fur?"

Tooth turned and spoke quickly with a fairy, and patted the top of his head. "To help Jack notice what you want him to, of course."

"Right. My good features." He pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Don't say that." Tooth tapped the tip of his nose. "You have plenty of _wonderful_ features, and I don't just mean physically."

He snorted, and wiggled his nose a few times. That had tickled. "Ye're talking to a former geek, Dove. Back when I was a Billy Lid, I was the one with coke-bottle glasses and a pocket protector." He winced at the memories. "Lisp, too."

"And you grew up into a strong, tall-"

"I'm a foot and a half under average for my species." He looked down to the side. "Not that it much matters now."

"You're right." Tooth touched down in front of him, and caught his elbows. "Here and now, Bunny, all that matters is that you are handsome and exotic. Jack doesn't know what you're 'supposed' to look like. He doesn't know what you looked like as a child. What he knows, right now, is that you're tall for people _on Earth_. That you make amazing chocolates and are a wonderful artist. That you're kind when you can be, and tough as nails when you have to be. Maybe compared to other Pooka you were a pocket badass, but here and now?"

She smiled, and shifted so as to hug him. "Here and now, you _are_ tall, and strong, and _handsome_."

"Right." He hugged her back, and actually _noticed_ when he had to reach _down_. "Sorry 'bout that. Don't quite know what's come over me."

"This isn't painting or chocolate eggs. If I were trying to court someone, I'd be plucking feathers." She pulled back, and patted his chest with one hand. "You're enough to make me regret I'm not interested in men."

He choked on a laugh, this time. "Well, thanks. Guess I'm all fretful because- What if he _doesn't_ go for me?"

Tooth shook her head, and held up one finger. "Just a moment." She then turned and addressed a group of waiting fairies. When they'd scattered to the four corners, a cluster of five dropped a smallish sized book into her hands. "Thanks, darlings. Go take a quick breather, and then you're off to Japan!"

She turned back to Aster. "Come on, let's go inside. As for Jack... Why wouldn't he go for you? You're clearly his favorite already."

"I am?" He perked up, and grinned. "I am, aren't I?" Jack let him drag him all around the world, let him prattle on, and never had put a time limit on his visits. Even at the start, he'd never been chased off- apart from that disastrous first time, but Aster didn't really count it. The others certainly couldn't say the same. "Wonder why?"

Tooth smirked at him. " _Well_. I have a few ideas about _that_."

"Should I be worried?" Aster asked, and smirked. He'd indulged in low self esteem long enough. Maybe he hadn't been a Pooka Adonis, but the gods and goddesses of Ur had liked him well enough, and he _was_ Jack's favorite. Not to mention all the other spirits that'd chased him over the years, for various reasons.

About damn time he did some chasing of his own; only fair, when you got down and thought about it. Besides that, any time he'd been courted, he'd ended up hating his nest partner. If _he_ did the courting, now... Might be things would work out much better.

"No, no." Tooth waved him to a seat. "So. Your good points. You definitely have beautiful eyes. You should look meaningfully into Jack's when you talk with him." She paused, and looked doubtfully at him. "You do know how to do meaningful looks, don't you?"

Aster looked meaningfully into her eyes.

"... Bunny. That's a death glare."

"Well then no, I don't."

Tooth sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Just- look at him a lot. I doubt you'll find it a hardship."

"Can't say I would," he agreed. "Eyes, looking- anything else?"

Tooth smirked, and caressed his shoulder and upper arm. "Well! Let's see... You are _built_ , my friend. I know you think you're short, but you are six feet and one inch of lean muscle and sleek fur. You are a beautiful example of feral masculinity." She grinned, and sat back. "Which would be why I can only ever admire you the way I'd appreciate a lovely statue."

Right, wrong plumbing. And a more sibling relationship than what tended towards romance. "Feral?"

"You're certainly not _tame_." She tapped a finger against her chin. "You know, you might want to try... helping Jack to see that. Show him both sides, the scholar and the warrior, the civilized being and the Pooka that grew up in an environment trying to kill him."

"I'll have you know that Kaerawien was positively peaceful. Half the plants didn't try to eat a bloke, even."

"Did you listen to what you just said, there?" Tooth asked, and shook her head. "Never mind. Do you feel better, now?"

"Much, thanks." He did. Maybe he'd be pants at the flirting, but he'd try, and in between he'd just be himself. More himself than he'd been in a long while, even. Most folks got a bit nervy when he started carrying around knives and bolos just because, and got confused when the knife-carrying warrior started talking high philosophy. Jack, though- he knew the Ice Lord would get it.

"Good." Tooth smiled. "Now, I know it's been a while since you've actually had sex-" Aster nearly choked again, "-so I thought I'd let you borrow this."

The copy of the Kama Sutra she held up was clearly old, quite possibly a first edition. She flipped it open to- Aster winced. "Tooth? I don't think Jack would be interested in me biting him _there_."

"Don't be silly. Teeth are just as much sexual organs as a penis or vagina." She admired the faded pictures of bite marks fondly, and then flipped pages to- El-Ahrairah have mercy!

"Tooth!"

"I'm sure you can adapt this one for your own use. It was meant for a man and a woman, but it should be simple enough to-"

Aster clapped one hand over his eyes, but it didn't do anything for his hearing. He gritted his teeth, but lasted only a minute as Tooth nattered on about pressure points and erogenous zones and how he didn't have to worry about penetration depth because neither he nor Jack had a _cervix_.

"Okay," he said, cutting through the babble. "You've been a lot of help, Tooth, really. But I've got to go. I've got things to do at that place right now."

"Do you want to borrow the book?"

He eyed the evil thing, and shook his head. "Nah, she'll be apples. But I have to go. Now. To do the thing. You know?"

"Sure, Bunny." Tooth set the book aside, then flew up and hugged him about the shoulders. "Go do your thing at the place. And if you need to reference anything-"

"I know who to turn to." Not Tooth, and not that book. "Thanks again. I'll just- go. Now."

She smirked, and went with him up to what he thought of as her command post. He descended to the ground alone, most certainly not fleeing.

At least not until he was safe in his tunnels, that is. Then he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He promised himself, bouncing off one wall and taking a corner at speed, that if for whatever strange reason he _did_ forget how his body worked and needed advice on how to have sex, he'd listen in on a school class. It'd be less mentally scarring than any more pictures of two stylized humans having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the one year anniversary of Rise of the Guardians, I would like reviews! Also, don't take dating advice from a bunch of century old spirits who haven't dated in a few decades.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Jack glowered at the swirling ice-clouds on his globe, and wrestled with his temper. He _wanted_ to shatter the storm-powers brewing over the South Atlantic Ocean, and then hunt down the ones responsible and _break them_. They would be unable to hurt _anyone_ when torn into their component parts.

Katya shifted her weight from foot to foot, feathers slicked down. "Mother Nature said you could not touch it." She eyed him, silver eyes bright with concern. Possibly even fear. "She was quite... firm."

**_"Mother Nature,"_** Jack snarled, **_"is a mewling quim."_**

Loptr cleared his throat. "The storm is unseasonal. It affects the balance. Why would she defend it?"

The ice wyrm had chosen his voice for a soothing, old British tone. At the moment, it was failing utterly to touch the Ice Lord's temper.

**_"The lesser balance, certainly,"_** he growled. His hands tightened on the arms of his throne, splintering the ice there. His two creations both flinched, as subtly as they could, but he still noticed. His decades of using his _animated statues_ as an outlet for his temper were gone, yet it appeared they remembered previous events.

He rumbled low in his chest, much like an enraged wolf might, right before lunging at the annoyance's throat. **_"The humans are apparently getting beyond themselves. Something about an experimental..."_** He waved one hand in dismissal. It didn't matter what the mortals were coming up with, it would not affect his duties. **_"The hurricane is supposed to set things 'to rights'."_**

Katya and Loptr exchanged looks. "But," the ice phoenix said. She sounded lost. "But the death toll will be horrific. The storm will be off the charts."

Jack snarled in answer, and folded his arms. **_"And the effects from the storm will linger for millennia and more. There is a reactor of some sort... here."_** He pointed to a part of North America the Guardians called 'Mexico'. **_"The weather will be unsettled in that part of the world for decades, which will spread to the rest of the world in- and why am I telling you this? You already know!"_**

"Vaguely," Katya murmured.

"The same way you know how a gasoline engine works, I'm sure," Loptr added.

Jack tilted his head back in an approximation of raised eyebrows, momentarily distracted from the building storm. Had he ever known how the gasoline engine worked? Gas went in, was somehow burned, and that translated into energy for the vehicle to move.

Not much of an understanding, which, he supposed, was something of the _point_.

He sighed, the sound rumbling through his chest. **_"Very well. Weather. It will help if I use water metaphors."_**

"We understand water," Loptr said.

**_"Very well. Air works, in a way, like water currents. There are powerful wind streams high above the planet's surface- think of them as the oceanic currents, or perhaps large, concentrated jets."_** Jack studied the globe, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips. **_"Quite a ride, they are..."_**

Not that he had ridden the high winds recently, or often. But he could remember doing so, now. That high, he'd looked down on the curve of the horizon, and the air had been too thin to breathe. It had seemed that if he just reached up, he could have pulled down a star, or pulled himself up to the moon.

**_"So. Air also heats up, and cools down, as water will. Where it warms, it expands, working to spread out and cool down once more. That is a high pressure system, and cold air is a low pressure system. The high pressure system acts, as the name suggests, as a higher elevation. Uphill. The low pressure system is therefore downhill. The winds closer to the earth are the water currents going from high to low, and are stronger or weaker depending on how much of a difference there is between systems."_ **

His two creations nodded seriously. Jack racked his brain for the next part of the explanation. Once this all settled down, he would _have_ to start re-reading his scientific books.

**_"The air also carries moisture. Generally the water droplets are too small to form what we would term 'rain'. When the moisture is held in a high pressure system, the droplets are at their smallest, and there are few clouds. In low pressure systems, there are clouds, and rainstorms, depending on a number of factors determined by how the high and low pressure systems interact."_ **

Which was as technical as he felt it safe the explanation get, really. Besides, his creations needed to know more about how a spirit-made storm could affect the natural world, at the moment.

**_"Spirits do not have to follow those rules. The most powerful can force the wind streams to shift at their will, can drag the winds about with ease. I can do that,"_** he admitted. **_"Although it is much easier to work on a smaller scale- and much less disruptive. The greater the change to the natural world one makes, the greater the... the ripples,"_** he said, and spread his hands. **_"How I use my power, it is as though I am tossing a very small pebble in a very large pond. There is very little disturbance. The ripples I cause last for a short period of time, and do not make any lasting effect._**

**_This storm that Mother Nature is behind is more akin to a boulder being thrown in a small pond. The water will not still for a long time, things from the bottom of the pond will be churned up-"_** He shook his head.

His two creations turned and studied the globe, expressions solemn. Loptr turned back to him. "Is there _nothing_ you can do?"

Jack curled his upper lip up off his teeth. **_"I cannot touch the storm."_**

The two creatures of ice peered closely at the globe. "What about... around the storm?" Katya half spread her wings. "Would that do anything?"

He stood up, and approached the globe to study it more closely. **_"Perhaps,"_** he muttered, and peered at the building storm.

The giant storm, the super hurricane, was disrupting the weather around it. At the moment, the budding squalls were no threat to anyone, but that could and would change, quite swiftly. The squalls were well within his power to disable, and if he...

Jack straightened up, and began to chuckle. **_"Attend,"_** he said, and returned to his throne.

Three days later, a category four hurricane smashed into the eastern coastline of North America. The damage it caused was extensive, but the loss of life was surprisingly minor for such a storm, overpowered and out of season. Humans had become quite adept, over the centuries, at surviving the worst Mother Nature could throw at them.

Except this storm was not the worst, though it had been intended for such at title. Jack's efforts, on the periphery as they had been, had effectively halved the storm's power. He was tired, but pleased. His two creations slumbered, Katya on her perch and Loptr on his table, and he was minded to join them in their rest.

He wondered what memories he would dream this time.

Jack closed his eyes, and relaxed against the hard back of his throne. He would get a visit, soon, if he judged things correctly. Not Bunny or North; they both had a holiday to prepare for. Perhaps Tooth or Sandy would drop by, although there was nothing that said he couldn't visit them. That would be... pleasant, perhaps. He would tell them what he had done, and while he couldn't expect them to _understand_ , perhaps they would be... proud?

He had just drifted off, when there was a sudden roar of thunder and brilliant light. Pressure held him firmly in his seat, the light blinded him, and the noise deafened him. It took several minutes for him to realize when it had stopped, his eyes were light dazzled and his ears deafened. His vision came back slowly, his hearing slightly faster, and his heart raced as both senses returned to normal.

He checked first on his globe, which had survived intact. The ice around it had been charred black, the walls and floor both, and similar black marks surrounded the stalagmite that served as light source and the point around which his globe spun. With both items untouched, he then checked on his two creations. Loptr and Katya were not where they had been, but he was not worried. They could transport themselves through snow and ice as he could, and had, in fact, been the source of his original idea for that method. They would have bolted the moment they realized the danger, the wisest course of action.

The walls were streaked with black char all the way around the circumference of the room, and in places had melted, revealing the rooms behind. The ceiling was _gone_ , all the way to the open sky above, which was currently a flat, metallic blue. His throne was untouched, though it seemed soot had been smeared across his one shoulder and the front of his loincloth.

Finally, Jack turned and looked at the other person in the room. She was of medium height for a woman, perhaps five feet and seven inches, currently with frizzy red hair that glowed faintly in the shadows. Her yellow eyes, fierce and bringing to mind mortal hawks he had seen, cast a stronger light. She was dressed entirely in black, primarily leather- short heeled boots that laced halfway up her calves, tight leather pants that fit like a second skin, and a long leather coat, nearly a full trench coat. Her black shirt was silk.

The clothing might have been in deference to the fact that flames curled around her fingers and licked up past her wrists, but he doubted it. Seraphina, Mother Nature, had always been a daddy's girl.

**_"Do you not know how to knock?"_** he asked, lips twisting in distaste.

_"How dare you,"_ she hissed, her voice a mingling of so many animals and sounds- the cawing of ravens, the roaring of bears, the winds whistling over high mountain peaks and the quiet ticking of Sahara sand sliding over each other- it was impossible to parse out each individual sound. _"I told you not to interfere with my storm!"_

Jack let his eyes close halfway, and pressed his hands against the arms of his throne. Terror settled in his stomach and chest, like magma at the heart of a volcano, wretchedly hot and horribly dangerous. At least he did not sweat, as he was now. That would have told her far more about his state of mind than he wished her to know.

**_"Your... out of season storm,"_** he said, thoughtfully. **_"I see."_**

Mother Nature hissed, like an enraged cat, like lava hitting ocean, like a rattlesnake shaking its tail and too many other things tangled up together. _"You_ dare _,"_ she snarled, stalking forward. Her voice shook the walls, and shook Jack down to his bones, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

He shrugged one shoulder. **_"It is past the season for storms. Your storm was spawning squalls that went against the winds and the currents. I merely subdued the squalls. I did not touch your storm at all."_**

_"And yet it was weakened, and only your energy was in the area,_ interfering _."_ The flames climbed higher around her arms, to her elbows. _"You all think I can't put two and two together and get four, but I assure you, you're wrong. Your power was there, and you excel at using it in subtle ways."_ Her expression twisted, teeth exposed to the gum line and eyes glowing brighter and brighter.

She stopped approaching, eyes suddenly wide, and then narrowing to unnerving slits. _"Ah. That's what you did, isn't it? Clever little Ice Lord, pathetic little_ worm _... Got tired of crawling through your own blood, did you? I'd heard you'd made some new_ friends _,"_ she spat. _"Were_ they _the ones that wanted you to interfere? To protect their precious little children? How dare they... How_ dare _they!"_

Jack clenched his teeth, against the pain in his ears. **_"They know nothing of this,"_** he said, voice dropping several octaves. **_"Leave them be."_**

The gentle little smile was quite terrifying, really. _"You wanted to impress them, didn't you? My poor boy... My poor Jack. I know you're lonely. But can't you see?"_ Her voice dripped into his ears, sweet and cloying like raw honey. The flames on her arms and hands died away, and the radiance of her hair and eyes dimmed. _"They will_ never _care for you._

_"Why should they? How_ could _they? Have you looked at yourself recently?"_ She reached forward, and traced the tips of her fever-warm fingers along the side of his face. Her eyes were liquid, tears gathered at the corners. _"You are too broken, your edges too sharp, for anyone to be near you. Cold, and death... That is_ all _you bring, my own, my poor little boy..."_

She blinked, and two perfect tears rolled down her cheeks. They dripped onto his thigh, and burned.

_"And you are so very weak,"_ she whispered, her fingers moving to trace over one of his many scars. _"So very, very weak. They pity you. They-"_

Jack struggled to breathe, to force the words out past the lump of his heart, lodged in his throat. **_"You are wrong."_**

False grief transmuted to fury in an instant. Burning claws dug into his shoulder and cheek, and _tore_. _"I?"_ she howled. _"_ I _am wrong? You_ dare _claim this? You-"_

_Fur approaches from below red sands._ Loptr stared up at Jack from his table, horribly blank and still, tail half melted. _What are your orders?_

Jack ignored his clenched heart and the pain therein, and stared up at Mother Nature. She appeared just as blank as Loptr, and then she flexed the fingers still embedded in his shoulder. He held his breath rather than gasp in pain, and held still as she drew back.

_"We will speak again,"_ she said, voice emotionless. She backed up until the shadows swallowed her. Only her yellow eyes were visible- and then they were gone.

Jack waited a minute, and spread his awareness through the ice of his fortress. She was gone. Only once he was certain did he turn to Loptr.

**_"Oh no..."_** He picked the ice wyrm up in his hands, doing his best to be gentle. **_"Loptr..."_**

The ice wyrm sighed, and looked up at him. "That was quite frightening, really."

He chuckled, and ran a careful finger down his creation's back. **_"Indeed. And Katya?"_**

"Watching from above. He really is approaching," Loptr said, gaze flicking towards the door. "Perhaps you should fix the roof?"

Aster stormed down the hallway, fingering the rip in his coat, right at the armpit. He'd put his hand through the sleeve too quickly, and caught his good arm guard on the old fabric. The sharpened metal had cut right through, and now he had a hole in his bloody coat!

It felt odd to be wearing his shine again. Odd, but good. Still, anything other than comfortable and normal set his fur on edge at the moment. Taking the time out of his work to visit Jack was as aggravating as it was appealing, and he never would have done it if he hadn't found himself painting snowflakes and curling ram's horns on one of his early googies.

He growled under his breath at the memory. His googies were for the _children_ , not a canvas for his _own_ hopes and desires. Just because he'd discovered a quiet, but deep, well of desire for Jack, a powerful longing to wrap his arms around the Ice Lord's neck and his legs around the Ice Lord's waist and hold on and never let go, didn't mean he had to _advertise_ that little fact.

Especially not _that_ way.

Aster punched a wall, because it was that or punch his own stupid self in the face.

Then he looked about five feet down, and saw the hole in the wall. It looked melted, and was big enough to drive one of the humans' giant lorries through, never mind walking. He approached the hole carefully, and frowned.

The hole in the wall had replaced the door that was normally there. He didn't think it was a result of Jack's temper- when the Ice Lord got cranky, things _froze_ , they didn't melt. And he never let himself get cranky, really. Inside was the throne room, and it looked... terrible.

And stank of ozone. That had most certainly not been Jack. Very few spirits played with lighting on a casual, or even not so casual, basis.

"Who attacked you?" he asked, before getting a good look at Jack.

The Ice Lord stood in nearly the exact center of the room, next to his glowing stalagmite. He was doing- something- with his hands raised, attention focused on the ceiling... Aster looked up and corrected himself. _Missing_ ceiling, then. He squinted, and realized that a thin skin of ice was building up along the edges of the remaining roofline, very slowly shrinking the large gap. It was fascinating, but not, he realized, anywhere close to as arresting as Jack.

Soot covered his shoulder, and a smear of it had gotten across his nose. Blood, both fresh and drying, covered one cheek and his other shoulder. He was sweating, the first Aster had ever seen him do so, and the liquid beaded up on his forehead, rolled down his neck, and then down his shoulders and chest and-

And Aster absolutely was not going to go over there and start licking and caressing those muscles. He absolutely was not going to wrap himself around Jack, as much as possible, and start rutting against his hip. He absolutely was not going to beg for the virile, dominant looking man-thing that was the Ice Lord to take him, immediately, right there on the ice. He absolutely was not going to ride Jack's dick until the Ice Lord's balls were empty and Aster was so full he leaked.

But oh, he really, _really_ wanted to.

He stared, captivated, as Jack moved his hands and arms in tiny increments. He looked like he was straining against some enormous weight, and the veins and tendons in his arms stood out, even as his muscles bulged and twitched. It was... an inspiring sight, and he had to get control over his body before it fully woke up and things got awkward.

Though, it was nice to know that body part still worked. It'd been a _long_ dry spell.

Aster shoved the sudden tsunami of lust into the back of his mind. Later. When he wasn't standing in front of the bloody walking wet dream, known to most people as the Ice Lord, Jack Frost. Then he could drop his metaphorical trousers and take care of the sudden, desperate ache and-

Jack lowered his arms, and turned to look at Aster. Far above, there was a roughly circular patch of thin, almost translucent ice, and apparently he was done working for the moment. Muscles flexed as he moved, and Aster realized he was staring hungrily only when Jack frowned and looked... worried?

**_"Do I really look as horrible as that?"_** the Ice Lord asked. He folded his arms, obscuring the broad expanse of his entirely lickable chest. Aster might have whined under his breath at that.

A little.

Barely audible at all, even for his ears.

"No," he said, and drew the word out for several syllables. "Not horrible. You look like you've been in a fight, mate, what happened?"

A fight. Which Jack had won. Because there wasn't any other possibility. Not when he looked all... big, and strong, with a hint of danger in the blood and the sweat and Aster wanted to lick at the moisture rolling down Jack's sides _so very much_. He bit his tongue.

The Ice Lord gave him an odd look, but finally shrugged. The muscles in his shoulders- it looked like some of them had to get out of the way for others, and Aster growled under his breath. Jack's shoulders looked just right for biting.

What would it feel like, to have those sharp nails scrape lines down his back, through his fur?

Not now, he told himself, and walked over to where Jack had just sat down. He tried not to, but his walk turned into something very like a predatory stalk, circling around behind Jack to stop in front of him.

Jack gave him another odd look. **_"The floor is quite secure,"_** he said. **_"I fixed that first."_**

"Just looking," Aster said. He frowned, half at his stupid self, the other half at the char marks and melted patches. "What _happened_?"

Jack scowled at the nearest char mark, which happened to be near his foot. Hoof. **_"Mother Nature. There was a storm."_**

"The- the hurricane?" Aster almost took a step back. Almost. Jack wouldn't do that. He wouldn't- he'd said, loudly and often, that he didn't make storms, he guided them when they were needed and shattered them when they weren't, and that storm-

**_"She did not like my interference, no, although I only calmed the squalls the hurricane spawned."_** His scowl deepened. **_"Had she her way, the weather patterns would have been in a mess for centuries to follow."_**

That... was actually rather disquieting to think about, actually. Mother Nature guarded the balance of the seasons and the weather, she didn't disrupt any of it.

Or, she wasn't supposed to.

He set that thought aside for later. Jack hadn't caused the storm. He must have somehow weakened it, if Mother Nature had been upset. "And she came after you?"

**_"It is not the first time."_** Jack shrugged, doing interesting things to his shoulder muscles again. Aster's train of thought was promptly derailed and set on fire.

"Ah- want me to talk to her?" Aster clasped his hands behind his back, to keep from caressing those lovely muscles, and also because Jack wouldn't appreciate having his hair tugged on when Aster kissed him.

Except there would be no kissing. The throne room was a no kissing zone. Right now. Later that would change.

**_"She has made her complaint. All there is left to do is clean up her mess. Again."_** Jack sighed, and tilted his head back against his throne. **_"I am sorry. But I think I will have to miss North's party for the New Year."_**

What? It took him a second. "Oh, right, that thing. Yeah, I can understand." Well, if Jack wasn't going, then Aster certainly wasn't. Not that he ever had before. He looked around the room. "I'd help you clean up if I could, mate, but-"

**_"You have your own work."_** Jack tilted his head to the side, what Aster had learnt meant the same as a raised eyebrow in people who _had_ eyebrows. **_"Which you should be busy with right now."_** He looked Aster over, gaze lingering on the metal arm and leg guards, and the long knife he was carrying openly on his belt. **_"Is there a problem?"_**

"No, no. Just, ah, airing out the old shine, you know." He coughed, and looked away. "But I should let you get to work, I guess."

**_"Mm. And return to your own."_** For a moment, the Ice Lord looked incredibly weary, his eyes sad, as he looked at the damage to his home. **_"I will see you after Easter, I assume?"_**

"Unless I get artist's block again. You're good for clearing the creative ducts."

**_"I shall pretend to understand what that meant."_ **

Aster nodded, and bid a hasty retreat before his self-control failed and Jack got an eyeful of Pookan buck-hood. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of in that area, certainly none of his previous conquests had ever complained, but it'd be a bit... sudden. Possibly confusing. Besides that, Jack wouldn't understand what it meant when Aster knelt down and started fumbling at that loincloth to see what was hidden underneath. That would _also_ be a bit sudden.

He came to a dead stop, at the edge of his tunnel. "Bloody hell," he whispered, and almost shook as he realized-

He hadn't felt like this towards anyone before. Desire, lust, an almost feral want for Jack's body shook him, and if he hadn't had as many centuries as he did- well, Jack _would_ have gotten that look at Pookan buck-hood. It wasn't only time dimming the memory of his emotions- he quite simply had _never_ wanted another person this strongly. Ever. Not any of his previous tumbles on Earth. Not even other Pooka when they'd been alive.

"Bloody hell," he whispered again, and jumped into his tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a Mother Nature, Jack's explanation of weather systems as understood by me (not understood at all...) and Aster getting a major surge of lust. The Pooka won't be leaving that gutter for a while now...
> 
> -sly grin- Did you guys think you wouldn't get a chapter today?


	19. Chapter Eighteen

"Oh, Jack, there you- what _happened_?" Tooth hovered in the lone surviving doorway, eyes very wide as she looked around the throne room. Jack had managed to finish repairs to the roof, but only just. The creation and formation of so much ice- one-hundred and seventy-two metric tons of ice in total, between the roof and the three levels between, to be exact- had left him drained and exhausted. He currently sat on his throne, upright only because he had based it off a wingback chair, at some point in time.

**_"Mm?"_** He got one eye open halfway, and considered it an accomplishment. **_"Nothing much. Just a small squabble."_**

"Oh..." Tooth touched down in front of his throne, and flattened her wings against her back. "Maybe I should... I'll just go, then, we can talk in a bit-"

**_"No. No,"_** he repeated, and struggled to sit up. He managed it, just. **_"What is it? I might not be able to do anything about it right now, but you may as well tell me."_**

She bit her lower lip, and finally nodded. "Alright. But, oh, I feel terrible about this, Jack, really. You look so _tired_!"

**_"Sleep is time to dream,"_** he assured her. He recalled most of his three hundred years now, give or take a decade, and though it was occasionally painful... He clung to it. The child he had been was gone, now, wiped out by the monster he had made of himself, but perhaps with time he could bring back some of his old, finer qualities.

But that was best considered at a later time, when he wasn't tired enough to babble every last thought in his head.

Tooth, for some reason, did not look consoled by his statement, but accepted it all the same. "It's General Winter. I think he's harassing my girls when they go to Russia."

**_"You think?"_** he prompted, automatically turning to his globe and focusing on the area of the world in question.

She huffed, and folded her arms. "If I knew for certain, I wouldn't be talking to you. I'd be castrating him. Slowly." Tooth tilted her head back, and frowned. "With a spoon."

He chuckled. **_"I would hold your coat. Metaphorical coat."_** He frowned, and finally shrugged it off. **_"What has been happening, then?"_**

"Oh, nothing I can prove. My girls tell me about cold winds blowing them off course, and it _is_ winter, but it feels... They say they can smell the magic. I went out myself, but there wasn't anything. And they say they feel watched the whole time. Windows are iced shut- and I _know_ , it is winter, and Russia, and it's not abnormal, it's just..."

**_"Perhaps a little too much to_** **be _normal?"_** Jack suggested. **_"Even if all he is trying to do is unnerve you, it is clearly working."_**

"All I need is evidence. If you can somehow prove he is trying to creep my girls out..." Tooth's wings buzzed, though she didn't lift off the ground. "I have a sword with his name on it."

Jack tilted his head, but didn't comment. There was a large difference between waking up to someone in your bedroom, and hunting them down with plans for evisceration. Although he supposed his view of Tooth had been forever spoiled by her waking panic. **_"I can visit Russia soon,"_** he said. **_"If General Winter is being subtle, I might not be able to pick up details on my globe."_**

"Really?" Tooth looked from the globe to Jack, and back again. "But I thought...?"

**_"It allows me to use my powers anywhere in the world without actually being there. Not picking up subtle hints of magic."_ **

"I suppose that makes sense." She took his hand in hers, and all but cradled it to her chest. "Thank you, Jack. Really."

He let one corner of his mouth turn upwards in something like a smile. **_"I haven't traveled much recently, with Bunny preparing for Easter. It will be nice to get out."_**

Tooth's grip tightened on his fingers, a slight but noticeable amount. "You've been traveling with Bunny?"

**_"He says he requires my protection. Several rude individuals have been harassing him."_** There was more to it, of course, but... Jack wasn't quite sure how to explain it. He missed Bunny when they weren't together, enjoyed being with the overgrown kangaroo, yet the emotion didn't weaken him as he had expected. Rather, he felt strengthened, in a way, supported, and it made him somewhat wary to examine the feelings. **_"It gives me a reason to go outside."_**

Tooth stared into his eyes, her own intent. "And you're enjoying yourself?"

He shrugged one shoulder. **_"It is interesting. I don't recall visiting such places when I was... a human spirit."_**

"Oh, you have new memories?" _Now_ she was hovering. He swallowed down his amused chuckle, and gave her a stern look.

**_"I recall a few moments where I considered_** **fun _more important than_ safety _. Nothing to aid in finding out who I was. But,"_** he allowed, **_"good to know all the same."_**

"It is," she agreed, and let go of his hand. "You look tired, though. I should go."

**_"I shall visit Russia as soon as possible."_** He leaned back, and smirked. **_"Do they all dress like North?"_**

"What?"

**_"The Russians."_ **

"No, Jack." Tooth smiled at him. "Not for several centuries now."

**_"Well, I feel cheated."_ **

Her laugh felt like a victory, and he fell asleep smiling.

Jack checked the contents of the basket one final time, and nodded. **_"Thank you, Phillip. I appreciate this."_**

North's head yeti grunted, and waved one hand in clear dismissal. Jack snorted, but he wasn't at all insulted. The yetis were busy, even now with several months past Christmas, and had little time to waste on such things as small talk. Jack's request had cut into Phil's schedule, though the yeti was too good natured to turn him down over such a simple thing. A basket of fresh vegetables and fresher bread was easy enough to pack up, after all.

Jack had considered asking for one of North's portals, but decided against it. While he thought the Russian Guardian would give it to him, he couldn't quite accept the idea of traveling through the portal. It seemed quite risky and the very idea sounded uncomfortable. He would keep to his own methods, which might be personally exhausting, but were also much safer.

He strode out into the snow, and took a deep breath. The North Pole _felt_ different than the south; a touch more humid, with softer snow. Certainly there was more life; polar bears, reindeer, the sedge grasses that grew beneath the snows... Only a small part of the northern ice cap could not support life, while most of Antarctica seemed to live in the ocean.

He took that sense of difference, and wrapped it around a tiny spark of his power. He held the spark in one mental hand, and reached another spark out to the other side of the world, very nearly to his fortress. Australia was hot, dry when it wasn't humid, with very little for his powers to touch. Yet there was some: faint hints of old, old ice, from long before humans had left the trees to _become_ humans; the artificial cold of refrigerators and freezers, and an old fashioned ice cellar. It was that last he secured his second spark of power to, before he brought the two sparks together. The power flared, brilliant and volatile like thunder snow, and he caught hold before it could go awry. He mentally wrestled it into the shape of an archway, and stepped through.

And promptly nearly killed himself, going headfirst into what felt like the hardest boulder in the world.

Jack snarled, and dismissed his magic. He ducked, almost doubling over, to avoid bashing his brains out on the low ceiling. The Australian rabbit's ice cellar was claustrophobically small, filled with blocks of ice that had been coated in sawdust to help preserve them, and barrels and crates of dried and preserved fruits and vegetables. There were ingredients for Bunny's more delicate recipes, a small vat filled with what appeared to be whole milk, another of cream. It was enough to fill the room, even without Jack standing in the middle.

He huffed, and all but crawled to the door. It was at the top of three rickety steps. Jack disdained them, and simply stepped up- an awkward, but not impossible height- and into what he remembered was Bunny's kitchen. The ceiling was still low, but at least he only had to hunch a little.

**_"Loptr,"_** he growled, and summoned his ice wyrm.

His creation appeared, almost instantly, on his palm. Jack's one eyelid twitched faintly; the ice wyrm had appeared in one of the animated statues Jack had ignored of late, in favor of his two living creations.

**_"What is this?"_ **

The ice wyrm looked up, and smirked. It was very odd, with how immobile the rest of the body appeared. "Katya and I both think it best if we leave our real bodies in the safety of the fortress. It is easy enough to animate the others. How may I serve you, my lord?"

**_"I require you to find the rabbit. It would be rude to wander all about his home, looking for him."_** Jack set Loptr down on the floor. **_"I will wait outside."_**

The ice wyrm twitched his tail in acknowledgement, already scuttling off deeper into the burrow. Jack went outside, automatically ducking low and turning sideways to get out the door. Once there were no low ceilings overhead, he stretched up to his full height. He remembered, when he had been human, rising up onto his toes while stretching so, but now of course he walked permanently on what was, essentially, a large toenail. He wasn't sure if it was better, or worse, than having human feet. Certainly his hooves were harder to injure.

He looked over at a flash of ice, and watched Loptr vanish behind a low hill. Apparently Bunny was not sleeping inside... Although so recently after Easter, Jack couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. He remembered... Had it been only last year? Bunny had fallen asleep outside then, too, and Jack had been forced to carry him inside to act out his plan. Which had backfired with the rabbit. He looked down at the hand Bunny had clung to and nuzzled, and shook his head.

**_"Not this year,"_** he told himself, unsure what he meant by it.

He checked on the basket of food, reaching out mentally to tweak the temperature of the bread. It had cooled some, despite the basket being insulated. It took less than a moment to have it warm and steaming again.

Loptr arrived just as he finished, and nodded. "I found him. This way."

Jack followed after his creation, and smiled at the sight of the rabbit. Bunny had, indeed, fallen asleep outside again, although clearly he'd woken up several times since Easter. Jack had waited a week just to be certain of Bunny having gotten some rest. Yet it appeared the rabbit hadn't gone to bed, but instead moved to rest near his vegetable garden. The remains of several carrot tops lay scattered by his head.

Bunny had told Jack, at some point, that while he liked carrots, he'd never want to live off them. The Australian was quite fond of cooking, though not adventurous, and liked variety in his diet. Yet when too tired to cook, carrots apparently served the same purpose as meal replacement bars did for humans. Such things could even be tasty- in moderation.

**_"Thank you, Loptr,"_** Jack said, and knelt down next to Bunny. The question now became, did he wake Bunny, or wait for him to wake on his own?

He finally shrugged, and set the basket down long enough to lift the rabbit in his arms. There was no part in the Warren that was not lovely- or at least, the parts Jack had seen were lovely- but the vegetable garden was more utilitarian than picturesque. It was easy enough to carry Bunny over to a spot with a better view; atop a hill overlooking a valley filled with strange looking plants like none he'd ever seen before, that slanted down to the river of paint he had seen the year before. He set Bunny down on the grass, and sat beside him. He would wait. The bread was easy enough to keep warm with his magic.

He sat, aware of the passing of time but not how long it was, in the mindset he'd learnt in his long years alone. Usually he watched his globe, like this, but the river was an equally suitable place to rest his gaze. The pastel colors mixed and flowed together, harmoniously, green becoming blue, becoming a soft shade of violet that turned into an equally soft shade of red. It was peaceful.

Bunny stirred, and Jack looked down at the slowly waking kangaroo. He could not help the fond feelings that warmed his chest. He cared for all the Guardians by now, it was true, but Bunny... If he were allowed to have a favorite, it would be the kangaroo. He wasn't quite sure why, not really. Bunny had not done anything the other Guardians hadn't duplicated.

Perhaps that was it. Everything they had done, Bunny had done _first_.

He reached over, and traced one finger along the rabbit's ears. The fur was very soft, and very warm. Bunny shivered, even in sleep, and Jack quickly pulled away.

It was not long after that, that Bunny woke fully. He stretched out, his lithe body curving against the grass, muscles flexing. Jack watched the play of fur and shadows, something tight in his throat. He knew Bunny was a warrior, he'd heard the stories and seen the weaponry, and yet. He looked almost vulnerable like this, still half asleep and looking faintly confused.

"Nnn... Jack?"

Jack hummed in reply, and gave into temptation. He stroked one hand down Bunny's neck and shoulders to the low back, and hummed again. The rabbit's fur was very soft.

"Mm... Do that again," Bunny murmured, accent so thick as to render the words incomprehensible. The fact he was talking into the ground, head pillowed on his arms, likely did not help.

**_"Perhaps later. Are you not hungry now?"_ **

One long ear twitched. "Food?" Bunny looked up. He was clearly still more asleep than awake, eyes limpid and innocent. "'m hungry."

**_"I imagine so."_** Jack lifted the basket lid, which filled the air with the aroma of the fresh bread. **_"You need to sit up first."_**

The rabbit made the most amusing grumbling noises, but he sat up. And promptly leaned over to the side, to rest most of his weight against Jack's shoulder.

"You're comfy," he said. "Food?"

Jack sighed, and pulled out the bread. He broke the loaf into two halves, the soft, moist interiors steaming faintly. He gave one half to Bunny, and then gently prompted him to eat when all he did was stare at it.

He took neat, careful bites from his own half, nibbling. Bunny was finished long before he was, and he offered the rabbit the remaining bread.

Bunny bit a large chunk from the loaf, before Jack had fully let go.

It was a shock, like lightning, almost like pain, that shot up through his fingers, through the muscles in his arm and shoulder, and lodged in the center of his chest. **_"Yes,"_** he said, voice steady only through intense will. **_"Eat that."_**

"Is good," Bunny told him. He looked somewhat more awake, though that wasn't saying much. His ears tilted at odd angles, but at least they were upright now. "Jack?"

**_"Mm?"_ **

"Jack?" Bunny finished the loaf, and then pawed at Jack's arm. "Jack... You're here, right?"

**_"Yes."_** Why did he ask?

"Oh." He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Good. Thought I'd dreamt you again."

Then he tried to climb onto Jack's lap.

At least, that was what Jack assumed the rabbit was doing. There was no other reason for him to paw at the Ice Lord's thighs and press against him like that.

**_"Bunny."_** He caught the rabbit by the shoulders, and pushed back, very carefully. Bunny was strong, yes, but fragile. If he were not careful with his strength, bones could shatter, muscles could tear, and the rabbit warrior could be forever crippled.

"Why not?" Bunny pouted, and expression that never would have happened but for exhaustion and lack of proper food. "I wanna."

**_"Eat first."_** He let go, carefully, and began pulling carefully packed platters from the basket. And, he realized, a jug of chilled drink, which smelt of cherry cordial. Non-alcoholic, he hoped. Bunny didn't need any more loosening up.

"Fine." The rabbit caught sight of the fruit salad, and froze, whiskers quivering ever so faintly. "I can have that? I want it."

**_"Alright."_** Jack balanced the platter on his thigh, there being few better places within reach, and took a careful taste of the cordial. It was _not_ alcoholic- strange, how he could tell just from a small sample- and offered it to Bunny.

"Okay." Jack didn't let go of the jug. Bunny's hands shook, no doubt a result of his near fast over the past week. And the jug, while small, was full and heavy.

**_"Now the food,"_** he said, and picked up a chunk of something yellow and juicy.

Eating the fruit salad was... odd. Jack had expected to eat a piece or two, to keep Bunny company, but... It didn't end up working out that way. Bunny watched every bite Jack took, at first with a sleepy contentment, and then as he woke further with a more and more intent gaze. It was unnerving. The rabbit ate steadily enough, but only so long as Jack was either holding a piece of fruit, or chewing. The moment he tried to stop, so did the rabbit.

Jack licked a drop of fruit juice off his wrist, then up to the tip of his thumb, following the drop's path in reverse. He looked up from his hand, and went utterly still. He even stopped breathing. Bunny was _staring_ at him, something unfamiliar and warm in his eyes. It made his heart race, made the palms of his hands and the skin of his armpits prickle with sweat, and in a minute _something_ would happen, he wasn't sure what but he _wanted_ -

 He fumbled the jug of cordial up between them. **_"Thirsty?"_** he asked, suddenly grateful his ruined voice couldn't croak or crack from a mere dry throat.

Bunny blinked, and the intensity faded, though it didn't vanish. "Thanks," he said, and took the jug. Apart from the odd expression, he seemed fully awake at last, and his hands had stopped shaking. Jack looked down at the platter of fruit salad, and huffed in something like surprise. There was juice left, but no fruit. He set it aside, back in the basket, and replaced it with the full vegetable platter. There were slices of carrots, cucumbers, celery, and several other, more esoteric vegetables that Jack didn't recognize, in pieces as they were. It had all been arranged in sections around a central dish of dip of some kind.

"Ah!" Bunny set the jug down, and selected a celery slice. He scooped up a healthy dollop of dip on the end, and then very slowly licked the dip off the end of the celery. Jack watched, mouth suddenly dry, as the rabbit _sucked_ the celery slice into his mouth. It was- that was-

He picked up a carrot slice, and crunched it absently.

After several minutes, it became too much to bear. **_"You have strange eating habits,"_** Jack said, and wrinkled his nose faintly. Bunny had just licked another celery slice, all over, before very slowly sliding the whole thing into his mouth.

The rabbit paused in the act of reaching for the platter, and stared at Jack's face. He seemed to be searching for... something. Jack stared back, utterly confused.

Bunny's shoulders slumped. "Right. Sorry about that, mate. Got carried away."

**_"Eat as you will,"_** Jack said, and made himself look away. **_"It is only odd."_**

The rabbit didn't answer, but Jack noticed that he ate... normally was the word, he supposed, after that. The vegetables vanished as quickly as the fruit salad had, and when Jack packed everything away, the cordial was almost gone as well. He reached for the basket, and glanced at Bunny.

The rabbit looked dispirited. A reaction to the aftermath of Easter? He could only imagine the effort that had gone into the holiday, the build up of emotions, and then the inevitable crash when it all finished. The listlessness, the sorrow, in the rabbit's expression made something in his chest- his heart, perhaps- clench. He reached out without realizing, and let his hand settle on and engulf Bunny's shoulder.

**_"Are you alright?"_** he asked, doing his best to soften and gentle his voice. The result was... not what all he could have wished for.

Bunny looked up, and leaned into Jack's touch. "Apples. Really. Just... Thinking, I suppose."

Jack shifted a touch closer, and began scratching gently through the ruff on the back of Bunny's neck. The kangaroo smiled, and began to- purr, was the best description of the sound. It was a soft, rhythmic grinding noise. By Bunny's expression, it was a sound of- of being content, Jack decided, and mentally banished the word 'pleasure' from his mind.

Just why a single word made him feel flustered, he did not know, but... Well.

He scratched Bunny's neck for several minutes, and then reluctantly pulled away. **_"I should go. I promised Tooth I would check on matters in Russia."_**

The rabbit sat up straight, drawing a deep breath as he did. "What's in Russia?"

**_"Possibly nothing,"_** he allowed. **_"Possibly something easy for me to fix. I shall see. Will you be...?"_**

"Apples," Bunny promised. This time it sounded real. "You hop on over to Russia and take care of Tooth's girls."

Jack looked over at the basket. **_"Could you return that to Phil, at the Workshop? It will be simpler to travel to Russia directly from here."_**

"Sure thing, mate."

**_"Thank you."_** He inclined his head, and then concentrated. He vanished from the Warren, leaving behind a small patch of frost already melting in the heat.

Aster groaned and flopped backwards the moment he had the unwanted privacy. Jack! He was just so- so-

The memory of Jack licking drops of juice from his fingers and wrist came to mind, so very vivid. He hissed, and stroked his hand down over his stomach to just above his groin. His cock hardened with record speed, he was sure, and when he touched himself it was so intense it almost hurt. He shifted his shoulders and hips, grinding against the grass, as he worked at his aching length.

All Jack's fault, he thought, and smirked. And someday, soon if _he_ had anything to say about it, Jack would pay him back for this.

Thoroughly. Very, very... thoroughly.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Jack drew the cold of Russia's snows about his shoulders like a cape, and then after a moment's thought, summoned Katya. "Fetch my cloak from the library, if you please," he told the ice phoenix.

The animated statue smirked, Katya's usual expression odd on the slightly different face. Katya's true body looked like a cara-cara bird, yet the one on his wrist looked like a variant of gyrfalcon. Between the subtle differences in shape, the difference in animation was striking.

"I will be but a moment, my lord," she said, and spread the statue's wings. In a moment, the statue flew across the snow fields, vanishing from sight as Katya teleported it to the fortress. A second moment, and the animated statue returned, pale green fabric fluttering like a pennant from its talons. Katya dropped the cloak while still flying, and it fell within reach. Jack caught it before it touched the snow, and nodded. Katya circled him once, before transporting the statue back to the fortress. Jack had no need for either of his creations to accompany him here. They would come in an instant if he called.

Jack secured the cloak, and drew the hood up over his horned head. Even a year ago, walking about without a shroud wouldn't have caused much trouble, particularly here. He hadn't been well known, apart as a name used to threaten other winter spirits, and certainly no one had known what the Ice Lord had looked like. Yet whenever he accompanied Bunny, the kangaroo insisted on introducing him as 'Jack Frost, the Ice Lord' and now most spirits had an idea of whom and what he was.

It was not a problem, however upset the kangaroo got at the other spirits; it was... _nice_ , to have someone defending his right to walk around just like everyone else, but not _necessary_. For the moment, however, he preferred to be as incognito as an oversized, hoofed man could be. The cloak and the snow helped.

Jack slogged through the snow, heading towards the human settlement. It looked similar enough to his memories of Moscow, a century ago, that he was reasonably certain it was the same place. The name may have changed- one day he would _have_ to secure a modern atlas- and there had clearly been some redesigning, but- well, until he was corrected, he would call it Moscow.

This was the area Tooth had mentioned, in further conversation, her fairies having trouble, however faint it was. He focused his senses upon the ice and snow in the area, searching for spirit energy. The world took on an odd, ultra-violet tinge. There was magic in all snow and ice, at least for him, a low level seep that could be used by _any_ winter spirit, but only ever seemed to be tapped by him. Perhaps that was why his power seemed to be spun out of winter itself.

General Winter's power was as subtle as a half-brick in a sock. Wrapped in icicles. And a tambourine attached for good measure. Even when the man was trying to be quiet, his power fluoresced against the quiet background like neon.

Jack started by circling the city. There was nothing on the outskirts, but he hadn't expected there to be any. General Winter could fly on the winds, too, and Tooth had said the issues were confined to certain suburban areas, for now. He continued on into the city, sidestepping the occasional, oblivious human still out late at night.

He found himself in a downtown area, of sorts, one very much rundown. The buildings were all covered in graffiti, and every window up to the third story had riot bars. It seemed that down every alley was at least one metal barrel filled with something burning, with hunched, ragged figures clustered around them. Snow fell, tiny pellets of ice, intermittently.

It had nothing to do with him, or with the favor he was doing for Tooth. And yet, he found he could not look away from the tired, cold humans.

It took only a moment's concentration, before warmer winds curled about the buildings and the snow turned from stinging pellets to gentle flakes. Russia was meant to be in the midst of winter, and in truth there was little he could do about the temperature, but- these people lived out on the street. What little he could do, he would.

Winter did not _have_ to be cold and harsh. He had known that, once, when he'd been young and- not _weak_ , but inexperienced. There could be fun in the snow, games and races, laughter and joy. There could be warmth, of lovers walking hand in hand, of mugs of hot chocolate, of snuggly winter coats and sunlight battling its way through the clouds. Winter could be gentle, it could be kind, it could be protective.

How could he have forgotten all of that?

His heart raced, and his breath came in jerky pants. He had forgotten, because he had lost a part of himself. And now, slowly, he was recovering it. The loss had been what had turned him into the Ice Lord. When he got it back... What would he become, then?

Jack turned, and continued his hunt for General Winter's power.

He found the first hints of the General's energy near the transfer from commercial to residential buildings. The power glittered against the almost neutral background, like shards of mirror melted into obsidian. Jack's nostrils flared as he began to move slower, more surely, following the gathering strength, mentally reaching out to the snow and ice surrounding the city. Without his globe to help him, he could only reach out several miles, instead of drawing the energy from across the entire continent.

Ahead, he heard distraught squeaking. Jack hurried, crouching over slightly and holding his cloak closed with one hand. He rounded the corner, and sized up the situation with a glance.

General Winter's power was focused entirely, or so it seemed, on a single window. Ice had covered it in a sheet at least an inch thick. The Baby Tooth hovering outside the window seemed moved to tears, scrabbling at the ice in frustration. She did not seem to be aware of the man, dressed in a trim and old fashioned uniform, watching her from behind.

Jack growled under his breath. The house's side yard looked typical of the ones he remembered in America. Presumably there was a lawn under the snow, but it all looked reasonably flat, with a short, knee-high fence- although the fence would likely be taller if he didn't hit nine feet without trying- around the whole.

He strode across the street, and let the wind of his passage catch his cloak and make the ends flutter dramatically. General Winter turned just as Jack stepped over the low fence.

He took three steps to cross the yard.

And then Jack Frost punched the General in the mouth as hard as he could.

He shook out the minor sting in his knuckles, and surveyed his handiwork. General Winter was, one hoped, unconscious; the shape of his jaw and nose looked painful. As did the slight littering of broken teeth, and the blood splatter on the snow. It was a pretty, if violent picture, really. He smirked.

There was a quiet gasp behind him. He turned and looked. The Baby Tooth looked shocked, yet also- admiring?

**_"Can I help you?"_** he asked. She immediately pointed at the window, and her eyes went big and liquid. She sniffled.

Well, it was hardly a difficult task. He touched one corner of the ice sheet, and concentrated. In moments, the ice had vanished, subliminated to water vapor and motes of energy. The Baby Tooth squeaked her thanks, and managed to shove up the window sill just enough to sneak in, get a tooth, and leave a coin. She flew back out, and Jack closed the window for her. He offered her his hand, and she perched on his palm like a tame sparrow, beaming.

**_"You are most welcome,"_** he told her. **_"Are there any other windows he,"_** he nodded to the unconscious General, **_"has interfered with?"_**

The Baby Tooth nodded, and fluttered up to hover in front of him. She squeaked, slowly and carefully, and offered to show him which ones. Jack smiled.

**_"Lead on then,"_** he told her, and followed as she flew down the street.

There were seventeen houses with the windows iced over. Jack removed all of the ice, though by his judgment the first light of dawn would melt it well enough. There were several Baby Teeth in the area, and they greeted the uncovered windows with cries of delight. They all paused to stare at Jack, happily, but none of them seemed to want to pause and speak with him.

**_"You are different from your sisters,"_** he said, and caught his guide carefully in one hand. She squeaked, and then settled down on his palm once more. **_"Why?"_**

She shrugged, almost listlessly. Her squeaks had a mournful quality to them, and she cuddled the tooth in her arms, like it was a stuffed animal. She wasn't different, she told him, just... older.

**_"Are you the eldest, then?"_** he asked. She nodded.

Ah. That made sense. The others had the focus of youth concentrating on a task not yet mastered, while this one- older and more practiced- was able to change her routine with relative ease. And, perhaps, had something of a rebellious nature, now old enough to question her mother, Tooth. Jack reached up and carefully ran his forefinger over the single gold feather on the Baby Tooth's brow.

**_"Have you a name?"_ **

She shook her head. She didn't need one. Mother Tooth always knew exactly which daughter she was talking to, and no one else talked to the Baby Tooths as though they were individuals.

That did not seem right to Jack, really. There were hundreds of the Baby Tooths. Most of them, true, in their single minded focus appeared quite similar, but he suspected there were tiny differences between them that would eventually become quite clear as they aged. And this one... This one was, he imagined, the eldest, or quite nearly. She deserved an identity of her own.

Individuality was meant to be encouraged, not suppressed.

**_"Would you like a name?"_ **

She looked up at him, eyes wide and incredulous. Then she nodded slowly, a single dip of her chin.

Names were important. Loptr and Katya had chosen their own, and chosen well, but this child had never thought of the possibility, let alone what she would like. He caressed her forehead again, and smiled. **_"Sunjay. Do you like it?"_**

Judging by her reaction, which was as enthusiastic as anyone could have liked, she did.

**_"Very well. Shall I escort you home and speak with Tooth on your behalf? No doubt she will be pleased."_ **

The Baby Tooth- Sunjay, squeaked and nodded frantically. Then she paused, and quite deliberately looked him over. How, she wondered, was he going to get there? He could fly, she remembered that, but his method was so slow.

Jack grinned, and she sighed at his teeth. **_"I have a new method of travel,"_** he promised her. **_"Now hold on. I've never traveled with a passenger before..."_**

Aster smiled at the repaired wall, and stepped into the throne room. As he'd expected, Jack was there, sitting on his throne and brooding over the small table his ice wyrm used. The table was currently empty. Aster had to wonder what he was staring at so intently, then.

"G'day mate," he said, and his smile widened when Jack actually jumped. "'Ow ya goin'?"

The Ice Lord scowled. **_"Kangaroo. Why are you here?"_**

"Good thing I've become fluent in Jack speak. If I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't happy to see me."

Jack grumbled something less than flattering under his breath, and looked back at the table. Aster waited a moment, but when he didn't speak again, he crossed the room and leaned over to peer at the table himself. "So, what're we looking at?"

Jack slanted a look at him from under his heavy, immobile brows. **_"_ I _,"_** he growled, the sound doing interesting things to Aster's spine and groin, **_"am working._ You _are being annoying."_**

Aster pointed to himself. "Me? Annoying? Never."

The winter spirit glowered at him another moment, then snorted. **_"Katya and Loptr wish for more bodies."_**

"Who do? What about bodies?" Aster sat down on the arm of the throne, and leaned to the side against Jack's shoulder. It was warm, and solid, and apart from a look and a blink, Jack didn't object any. He smiled.

**_"Katya and Loptr are my creations. Katya is an ice phoenix, and Loptr an ice wyrm. They achieved sentience some few weeks ago. I suppose,"_** Jack said, and frowned, **_"I could be considered their father."_**

Aster's mouth dropped open. "Gained sentience?" he repeated. "How'd that happen?"

Jack shrugged the shoulder the Pooka wasn't leaning against. **_"I cannot say, and they do not know. It happened. They each can control the other ice wyrms or ice phoenixes. None of those,"_** he waved at the stand of inanimate birds and Chinese dragons, **_"have shown personality."_**

"Right." Gained sentience. Sometimes, he had to wonder at Jack's level of power. Most spirits that could create life had to be worshiped as _gods_ first. And Jack certainly wasn't worshiped; most mortals barely knew the name Jack Frost, never mind the title of Ice Lord.

Although, Aster _might_ have had plans about that.

A few.

He stroked a hand over Jack's shoulder, and gave in to the urge to purr. After several minutes where he ground his teeth together, and Jack ignored him, he cleared his throat and started talking. "Well, congrats on the ankle biters then, though you should've told us. We could've had a get together or something."

**_"It did not seem important at the time."_** Jack moved, then, and held one hand out over the table, palm down. He narrowed his eyes, clearly concentrating.

Aster stared at the table, and raised his eyebrows when a faint fog began to form under Jack's hand. The mist began to condense, and solidify, and in what felt like seconds he was looking at a new ice phoenix. This one looked more like a snowy owl than a falcon or eagle, complete with soft edged feathers that would enable the bird to fly all but silently through the air. Jack glanced at Aster, and tilted his head up and back, his version of raised eyebrows.

"It's a beaut, mate." And it was.

Jack nodded, and turned back to the statue. He lowered his hand, until he was touching the statue's head, and concentrated again. Aster narrowed his eyes; was the ice starting to glow a faint blue? It was. And then Jack lifted his hand away, and the glow faded, leaving behind a perfect ice statue that suddenly stretched its wings and shook all over.

"Ah, yes," the ice phoenix said, a quiet lady's voice incongruously coming from the bird's beak. Owls didn't even have the right beaks and tongues to mimic speech. Granted, neither did falcons, and none of the Ice Lord's birds had ever had trouble before. "I like this one a bit better, my lord. We shall have to replace the old ones at some point."

The ice phoenix stretched its wings again, and then turned its head and looked at Aster. "Greetings. This would be our first proper meeting, would it not?" It bobbed its head. "I am Katya, mind and voice of the ice phoenixes."

"Ah," Aster said. Jack was smirking at him, he could just see it. "Nice ta meet ya, sheila. E. Aster Bunnymund, at your service."

**_"Your name isn't Bunny?"_** Jack rumbled. He scowled, an always impressive sight. It probably should've made Aster worried, but instead-

No, bad Pooka. No nuzzling the cranky Ice Lord and kissing away the bad temper.

That would come later.

"It's my nickname," Aster said, and forced himself to stay exactly where he was instead of, say, crawling into Jack's lap and looping his arms around the Ice Lord's muscular neck. "Haven't been called by my name in... Longer than you've been alive, come to think about it."

And that was just depressing. He was lusting over a bloke barely a fraction of his own age. Certainly it put a new spin on the slur 'cradle robber', didn't it?

Although, Jack _did_ act like he were several thousand years old, instead of only several hundred. It was easy to forget that he was barely older than the Easter Bunny mythos.

**_"Why not?"_** Jack stopped scowling, and slumped back on the throne. Aster twisted and stretched a bit so he could remain leaning on Jack's shoulder.

"Number of reasons, I s'pose. Friends gave me the nickname, the new spirits never heard my real one... Snowballed, I guess you could say." He smirked.

**_"And here I thought you would reference the kudzu vine."_** Jack smirked in reply. **_"Move, Katya, I need to work on Loptr's new body."_**

"Quite," the ice owl said, and flew over to the stand. There it went still, apparently 'asleep' or no longer being used, one or the other.

He watched as Jack focused and created a new ice wyrm, the dragon having a few different details from the rest. Unlike the ice phoenix, the ice wyrm didn't suddenly animate and start talking. Jack didn't seem worried, though, simply gestured at the statue. It vanished from the table, reappearing in an instant on the stand with the rest.

**_"That should satisfy them, for the moment,"_** Jack said, and looked at Aster. **_"So. What does the E stand for?"_**

"Embarrassing. Would your two tin lids be why Tooth's being petitioned for names from her brood?"

**_"My two..."_** The Ice Lord gave him an odd look. **_"No. I rescued one of the Baby Tooths, over in Russia. I named her Sunjay."_**

"You _named_ her?" Aster shook his head, and gave into temptation. Jack didn't twitch, not even when Aster began detangling the Ice Lord's mane. "Well, that's done it. You realize no one other than Tooth will ever be able to tell the little sheilas apart?"

**_"According to Sunjay, they will not mind. They are very focused."_ **

"Mm." They were. Aster concentrated on Jack's mane, at that point. Everything was all snarled; it made for an interesting time of it. Maybe if he had a comb and some conditioner... Really, untangled, Aster thought Jack's hair might reach below his shoulder blades, instead of only brushing the tops of his shoulders. And wouldn't _that_ be a sight to see?

Jack lost patience with Aster's ministrations long before his hair had gotten any better. He jerked his head away, almost making Aster tumble into his lap- he caught his balance before he'd realized where he was heading, which was a shame- and growled. **_"Did you come here for a reason?"_**

"Of course I did. To see you." Jack stared at him, expression slowly shifting to a scowl. "Fine, fine. Feel up for a trip?"

**_"More protection duty?"_** Jack asked, his scowl easing. Aster patted his cheek.

"Kind of. I want to visit some ankle biters, but the local sprites are a bit... I don't know, I'd say over protective if they cared anything for the mortals." He could run the sprites off easily enough on his own, but he rather thought Jack liked acting scary and driving sprites and spirits off with a scowl. The people worth talking to wouldn't run, after all, and so far no one had stuck around.

Except for the Guardians, that is. Aster was quite proud of himself and his friends for that. And after all, _they_ got Jack.

_He_ got Jack...

**_"You are_** **purring _at me,"_** Jack grumbled. **_"Stop it."_**

"What's wrong with purring?" He stopped grinding his teeth all the same. "So? Want to come visit the ankle biters with me?"

Jack grunted, and looked away. **_"I will keep the sprites off your back,"_** he said, finally. **_"But the children will not see me. That won't make for much of a visit."_**

Aster rubbed his shoulder. "Hang in there, mate. You never know what'll happen with the youngsters. Who would've thought a rabbit laid chocolate eggs without them?"

Jack smirked at him. **_"Is_ that _what you do?"_**

"Wha- _no_ , it's _not_." He drew himself up where he perched. "But it's what the youngest of the rugrats believe. Anyways. You up for the trip or not?"

Jack waved one hand, careful not to smack the Pooka in the face. **_"Very well, since you insist."_** He held a snowball out for Aster. **_"The usual, Kangaroo."_**

The usual would make things very simple, in the end. He accepted the snowball, and tucked it carefully down into a pouch on his bandolier, under his coat. "Right then. I'll see you in Burgess," he said, and hopped off the throne's arm.

**_"Burgess?"_** Jack repeated, but Aster just waved and darted out the door. He had a town to get to, and a group of kids to prepare.

He found the kids on the shore of Burgess Lake, trying to skip stones and collecting the new flowers. There were about seven of them, or maybe eight- he couldn't remember if the boy Luke had a twin, or was just active enough for two- and for the moment they all believed in the Easter Bunny. The oldest of them was a girl, Marsha, at ten years old, and the youngest was Jacob, at six. They were about even between girls and boys, and there wasn't a one of them not wearing some sort of handmade clothing.

He watched them from behind the trees for a minute, before sauntering out into the open, smiling. "Hello there," he said, and grinned openly at their expressions. He didn't do this that often- the last time had been, what, four decades back when he'd helped out that one sprog lost in a bog? Something like that- but the kids' reactions were always something. Shock, and wonder, and hope, and a faint hint of disbelief that got wiped out by the joy of _actually seeing the Easter Bunny_.

It made his heart glad, it did.

And very soon he'd give that exact same experience to Jack.

"You- you're the Easter Bunny," Luke whispered. His brown eyes were very wide, and he looked like he was starting to hyperventilate a bit. "The Easter Bunny!"

"So I am," he said, and crouched down. "And you're Luke... and Marsha... And you're Jacob," he told the youngest, grinning, before proceeding to name the rest of the children. Luke didn't have a twin, so he _was_ just that active, and good thing Bunny hadn't forgotten anyone's name.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Bunny?" Marsha asked, tugging at the end of one braid. She kept bouncing on her toes, and biting her lip.

"What, want to check the fur, see if it's real?" Aster held an arm out in her direction. She immediately squealed and started petting his fur. The other children immediately clustered around and started petting him, too. He ground his teeth in a purr, which made them giggle. "Thought I'd come by and sketch the lake," he said, nodding at the water. "Friend of mine's coming too, but, ah, he's a bit shy."

"Is he here now?" Luke asked, looking around. "I don't see him."

"No, I came ahead. See, he looks a mite bit scary, so he wanted me to check and see if anyone were here. He doesn't like scaring people."

"He's like the Boogieman?" the youngest girl, Mary, asked. "My mommy says the Boogieman needs a good smack, 'cause peeping toms are bad. What's a peeping tom, Mr. Bunny?"

Aster wrestled with his two immediate reactions- to jump to his feet yelling that Jack was _nothing_ like that arse, Pitch- and to fall over giggling hysterically. He managed to subdue both reactions, and simply smiled. "No, my friend's nothing like the Boogieman. An' a peeping tom's a very rude man, sweet, well deserving of a smack from your mommy. Nah, my friend's Jack Frost- ever heard of him?"

Only Marsha had, and she offered the scant explanation of "Jack Frost nips at your nose" somewhat doubtfully. "But my Da says that's just an expression."

"Well, your Da's an adult, and doesn't believe in me or Santa much, either, does he?" Marsha shook her head. "There you are, then. Jack's as busy as a beaver making snowflakes and spreading winter. Can't spend too much time talking with people most of the time."

"An' he's scary?" Jacob asked, slurring a little around the finger in his mouth.

"Well," Aster said. "He looks it. He's _very_ big, bigger than I am, and he's got horns and only wears a loincloth. But he's one of the nicest folks I know."

"An' he's coming here?" Luke asked. He bounced on his toes. "Can we meet him?"

"Do you want to?"

"Yes!" the children chorused. Aster smiled, and stood up.

"Well then. How about I get him over here and you can say hi, then?"

They moved back when he told them to, and he pulled out Jack's snowball. The children oohed over the way it glittered blue in the light. Then he turned and threw it at some open ground, where Jack wouldn't bump his head stepping out through the ice.

The by-now familiar explosion of snow and frost and whirling wind sprang up, and everyone had to cover their eyes against the wind. Aster heard first one, then the other of Jack's hooves crunch down on pine needles, and smelt the crushed greenery. He looked up, and smiled. Jack was staring wistfully at the children, eyes very sad.

Jacob looked from Aster to Jack, and toddled forwards, finger securely in his mouth. "He's fuzzy," he slurred. Jack's expression went from wistful to shocked in a split second.

Aster grinned- and then gaped when a teenager stepped forward, pointed at Jack, and shrieked.

"What the _hell_?"

Marsha turned and glared at her. "That's a bad word, Janice!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am looking forward to posting chapter twenty with a nigh-demonic glee.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Jack immediately dove behind Bunny- Aster- which didn't work quite as well as he could have hoped. Having something like three feet and three hundred pounds on the rabbit made hiding behind him difficult. The children all swivelled to stare at him, except for the one girl still yelling at the teenager over her 'bad word'.

They were _staring_ at him. They were staring, at _him_!

They weren't _supposed_ to _see_ him!

**_"Bunny,"_** he hissed, and winced at the sound of his own voice. **_"What's going on?"_**

The damn rabbit smirked, and turned to face him. "The kids know about you, Jack Frost," he said, and his smirk widened. "Kids, this is me good friend Jack. Jack, these are the kids of Burgess."

"Wait, wait!" They all turned to look at the teenager, who waved her arms in the air as though conducting an airplane landing. "What the fucking hell is going _on_ here?"

"I _told_ you, _no_ bad words!" the young girl yelled. She stomped one foot. "I'm telling Mom!"

"Mom doesn't give a flying fuck!" the teenager yelled back. "Go ahead and tell! Who the _hell_ are these people? Where'd they come from? _What_ are they? And _why_ are they here?"

Aster chuckled, and shifted, and suddenly he was leaning back against Jack's chest and why was he doing that? "Well, sheila, it's simple enough. I'm the Easter Bunny, and this bloke's Jack Frost, ruler of winter. You can see us 'cause you believe in us. We've always been here, doll," he said, voice gentle as though he were talking her off a ledge. "You saw us before. You just... forgot. Part of growing up."

The teenager, Jack noticed, had eyes like a cat's. "Fucking hell," she rasped. "The Easter Bunny? And... Jack Frost. You... You put frost on the window panes, don't you?"

Broadly speaking, yes. He inclined his head in agreement, and went back to watching the small children nervously.

They were so _small_. The tallest only just reached his knees.

"Hey, mister? Mister Frost?" One of the girls skipped closer, and the way her neck bent back looked painful to him. What was he supposed to do? He looked at Aster, but the idiot kangaroo didn't help. He only smirked, and raised his eyebrows.

**_"You're not helping,"_** he growled, and cleared his throat. **_"Yes?"_** he asked the child.

She... squealed... and bounced on her toes. "Hi! Hi! Um. Are you..." She ducked her head, and he thought she bit her lip.

**_"Yes?"_ **

"Are you and Mr. Bunny married?" she asked, and then clapped both hands over her mouth.

"No!" a small boy yelled. "They can't be husbands! They don't have bandses on!"

"Well maybe they don't _have_ any," the girl snapped. "Mr. Bunny's a bunny and Mr. Frost's really, _really_ big!"

**_"Ah,"_** Jack stammered, and looked helplessly down at Aster. The kangaroo had an odd, unreadable expression, but at least he didn't seem to be upset. **_"No. We're not... married."_**

"See?" the boy said. "No bandses! You need a bandses to be married!"

"Bands," the teenager corrected. "And not everyone needs to be married, Mary!"

_Mary_...

Jack realized he was holding onto Aster's hips, as though only that grip could keep him from falling into an abyss. He had known a girl named Mary. She had been important to him- as important as life? Not romantically, and yet...

"They _do_!" The girl Mary pointed at the two of them. "Look! They're just like Jacob's Da and Pop!"

Jack almost jumped out of his skin, and let go of Aster's hips at once. **_"Sorry,"_** he stammered, uncertain of where to look. **_"Sorry."_**

"S' all right," Aster said, and patted his chest. "Its apples, mate."

"Engaged, maybe," the teenager said.

And then something small clamped onto Jack's leg, and it was all he could do not to blast it with ice. A good thing he had refrained; the small boy beamed up at him, arms wrapped around his calf.

"Soft," the boy said. "You're as soft as Mr. Bunny!"

Which for some reason prompted all the other children to swarm and start petting his thighs!

Jack froze, eyes bugging out. This was- he was- and he didn't know what to do!

"Breathe, dude," the teenager said. She sauntered closer, and as she approached, he was able to make out more details. Her ears came to slight points, and twitched about. Her eyes, other than being like a cat's, with slit pupils and an odd, yellow-color, were slanted as well, and had obvious nictitating membranes at the corners. Her eye teeth were longer and more pointed than an ordinary human's, though nothing like his own jagged teeth. She too had claws, but hers were apparently retractable, and despite the faint chill she walked barefoot, and on her toes as Aster did.

"You don't have to stare," she said. "You _could_ just ask."

"You got a gen-mod?" Aster asked. "Cat, I'm betting."

"The rabbit wins the prize," the girl said. She smiled. "Just cosmetic. Didn't shell out the big bucks for a perm-change."

Jack drew himself up to his full height, and did his best to ignore the small fingers combing through his fur. **_"Explain,"_** he growled.

Someone squealed and demanded that he 'do it again'. He ignored them.

"Where have _you_ been?" The teenager rolled her eyes. "Genetic modifications, or gen-mods. Our generation's tattoos and piercings in weird spots. What I've got is reversible, if I care to shell out a few thousand dollars and spend a few weeks in rehab. Might switch over to perm- permanent- since it's kind of nice, but that'd possibly pass down to any kids, which is kind of not cool since they can't decide if they want it or not."

That _wasn't_ what he'd wanted explained. He glowered indiscriminately at everyone.

"Jack." Aster rested one hand on Jack's chest, for some reason, and leaned close. Perhaps it was only to aid in keeping his balance. "I told the kids you were coming, and your transportation isn't exactly... subtle." The rabbit smiled, and ducked his head. "I thought you'd like talking to them."

Jack frowned. But... it was true enough. He _had_ always longed to speak with the mortal children he'd seen. As North had said about the presents and coal, better late than never. **_"Perhaps,"_** he said, and let the word rumble through his chest. There were squeals from down around his ankles. He bowed his head, and his hands somehow ended up on Aster's hips again. **_"Thank you."_**

The teenager leaned forward, the motion catching Jack's attention. "Are you _sure_ you two aren't married?" she asked. "Because you're kind of acting like it."

"Smooch!" a child demanded. "Smooch!"

Jack snatched his hands off Aster's hips, and almost tripped over a small child when he backed up. His face burned with cold frost, and it was easier to kneel down and speak with the children than look at Aster. **_"So,"_** he said, and they giggled at the sound of his voice.

Clearly, they were all mad.

**_"Do any of you like snowball fights?"_** he asked, and offered a snowball to one of the boys.

The ensuing battle managed to distract him quite thoroughly from how _small_ Aster's waist had seemed under his hands. His fingers had nearly touched, and so had his thumbs, and the spot on his chest where Aster had rested his hand still burned with phantom warmth. Better to think about supplying ammunition to the children, and better to let the younger children hide behind him and ambush their elders from cover. Better to throw snowballs- at the teenager, Janice, not any of the children- and get hit with them in return.

He surprised himself with a laugh, a _real_ one. And then he just kept laughing, stepping carefully so as not to hurt any of the fragile mortals, using his power not to control his subjects but simply to enjoy.

It was almost perfect, and he found himself drawing the experience into himself, something warm and bright he could hoard against the inevitable dark days ahead.

Jack was beautiful when he laughed.

Aster wrapped his arms around himself in a form of hug, and watched Jack play with the children. He was in his element, moving with a slow surety that made him look graceful instead of ponderous. Snowflakes and frost crystals glittered on his shoulders and in his hair, and he looked wild and fey, when he didn't look like he was having the time of his life, romping in the snow and helping the younger children properly throw snowballs. If he could have, Aster would have painted the scene so as to preserve it. As it was, he'd have to trust his memory until he had some privacy later.

It was better that he stay on the sidelines, out of the play. Hard enough to control his response to Jack's touch; having the Ice Lord's hands on his hips had almost resulted in an impromptu lesson for the children in overgrown rabbit anatomy. Either he'd have to control himself better, or start wearing pants, because some things just weren't on in a polite society.

If he joined in the snowball fight, he'd end up kissing Jack, and that was also something the kids didn't need to see. Not just because Aster didn't have any pants, but because Jack wasn't ready for that.

And Aster wasn't ready to be rejected, even temporarily.

Jack paused in the game to look over and smile at Aster, and his expression was so tender and open it was heartbreaking. The Ice Lord normally looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but now that was gone. He was carefree, and enjoying himself, and Aster took several steps forward without even realizing it.

He wanted to curl up against Jack, and listen to that strong heart beat, and let those large, steady hands make him feel small and delicate.

It had been a very long time since anyone had made him feel small and delicate. Not since he'd been as young as the sprogs darting around Jack's knees, really. It wasn't that he _missed_ the feeling, but- it was Jack. For some reason, being treated like a- like a _treasure_ , didn't make him want to break out the boomerangs and grenades.

From Jack, it was okay.

Jack laughed again, having whirled back into the game while Aster had been lost in his thoughts. The Ice Lord scooped up one of the children in one arm, and spun around in a quick circle. The other children immediately stopped throwing snow about, and clamored for their turn with such treatment.

The teenage girl, Janice, stepped up beside Aster, breathing hard. "Well! Either I'm having a very active hallucination, or you really _do_ exist."

"I really do exist," Aster promised. "You humans can only see spirits if you believe in us. Back with the Greeks and all, it actually caused some problems."

"So centaurs really did kidnap women, and Zeus really did rape a woman while shaped as a swan?"

"Not as much as the old stories would have you believe," he said, "but yes. And Zeus was an idiot."

The girl smirked, and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I can believe it. Are they still around?"

"How many people believe in the Greek gods?"

Janice nodded, and watched the children play with the Ice Lord, her feline eyes utterly unreadable. "So... you're the Easter Bunny, and he's Jack Frost. Santa? The Tooth Fairy? The Sandman?"

Aster smiled to himself. "All real."

"What about the Boogieman? If I believe in him, will he show up under my bed some night?" She smirked when Aster gave her an odd look. "I bought a taser, and I want to try it out."

That sounded like fun, but... "Don't go tempting trouble, sheila. There are nasty things out there too."

"Fair enough," she allowed, and looked up at the sky. "Damn, and I have homework. Hope your friend will come back, 'cause I don't think the kids will want to give up their new toy."

"He'll come back." Aster leaned against a tree trunk as the young lady broke up the game, citing homework as the cause.

"And I know you've got homework, Luke, because your mother told me. Spelling _and_ math _and_ that bottle rocket thing you chose for your project. And don't think I'll help you! I've got homework of my own, stupid family history report..."

**_"Family history?"_** Jack asked, moving over to stand next to Aster.

Janice rolled her eyes. "The usual family tree, only we have to include little known facts about said relatives, if we can. I managed to find stuff about just about everyone, but not Jamie Bennett, and he was my great-great-grandfather! His daughter- great-grandmother- is still alive, even. Senile, but details."

**_"Jamie?"_** Jack stared off into the distance, or perhaps just his hazy memory. **_"I remember him. He believed in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, and intended to study them for a living. Whatever happened to him?"_**

"I guess he did end up studying them, in a way," Janice said. "He became a fantasy writer. I didn't know that, about him believing in... Are _they_ real too?"

Aster smirked, and waved the children off towards the town. "Hurry home before it gets dark."

Jack didn't talk again until the children were out of sight. **_"You planned this."_**

"I might have." Aster put one hand on Jack's chest again, just to feel the ironic warmth pouring off the winter spirit. "You deserve to be believed in."

The Ice Lord looked away, but he was smiling faintly. **_"Thank you, Aster."_**

"For?"

**_"Believing in me."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who here thought something bad was going to happen? Anyone? -grins-
> 
> Also, I hit my personal NaNo goal of 70K words... and the story's still not done. I'm not sure if it'll match Winter Rose's length (currently 231 pages, 97,449 words) but it sure seems to be trying! Also I've got a possible lead on a potential job for January, so fingers and toes crossed for that, please! If all goes well, I might be able to pay my bills without touching my savings overmuch. Won't that be nice?


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

Aster stopped in his work, and studied the blisters rising on his palms. Blisters! As if he was some lily-skinned fop who'd never done a day's worth of work in his entire life! He came from a long line of warriors and farmers, thanks all the same, he'd spent more years fighting and working in the dirt than the entire planet had existed- and a quick bout of shoveling had raised blisters!

To be fair, he thought, the Ice Lord's courtyard was a nightmarish hell of snow, snow, and more snow.

"This isn't going to work," he gasped, and looked at what little he'd done. The path from gate to door was a foot wider on one side, the snow he'd shoveled piled up to one side. He still hadn't found the ground underneath... if there was a ground. He suddenly remembered how _deep_ Jack had been forced to make the well in order to reach the frozen earth. And that had been over a jutting ridge, near as Aster could tell.

**_"What are you doing?"_ **

Aster spun around, the snow at least giving him near proper traction. "Jack! What're you doing here? I thought you were out."

Jack folded his arms over his chest. **_"I was. Now I'm back. Katya says you are trying to kill yourself."_** He paused, and looked doubtfully at the shovel. **_"Clearly."_**

If he hadn't been wearing his hat, his ears would've been folded down in embarrassment and no little shame at being caught. You weren't supposed to be caught cleaning up after your choice! You were supposed to be invisible, ghosting in to do your work and then vanishing before your choice got home. "Thought I'd clear the pathway."

Jack blinked, and looked at the pathway for several minutes. **_"Oh. How did that happen?"_**

"Well," he snarked, "first I got me shovel-"

**_"No, the snow fell oddly."_** The Ice Lord looked surprisingly shame-faced. **_"There was not supposed to be a path at all. How did it even_ do _that?"_**

Aster stared, open mouthed, at Jack's back, while the bloke poked at the snow drifts and muttered to himself about wind patterns and channeling effects and- what the bloody hell? "Do you mean," he asked, voice dangerously quiet, "I was shoveling for no good reason?"

**_"Yes."_ **

Aster threw the shovel at Jack's head. It bounced off. Jack only tilted his head to mimic a raised eyebrow.

**_"I get the feeling that you're upset."_ **

"I was trying to do something nice for you," he seethed. "Help neaten things up. Was supposed to be a surprise. But no! No, because you don't have a bloody path and its all bloody snow and these are all _your_ fault, ya wanker!" He waved his blistered hands about, and kicked at what turned out to be a chunk of ice. Boots or no boots, that _hurt_. He hissed, and started cursing in _every_ language he knew.

Jack sighed, and took three steps to cover what had been a half dozen feet. **_"Come here,"_** he said, and scooped Aster up into his arms. Aster froze, and then immediately melted. Metaphorically, of course. But there certainly wasn't any harm in nuzzling against Jack's incredibly defined pectoral muscle, now was there? No, no harm at all. He smiled, and breathed in the scent of the Ice Lord, even as he rubbed the tip of his nose against incredibly smooth and warm skin.

Jack made an odd sound, and adjusted Aster in his arms. It seemed ridiculously easy for him.

**_"You need to warm up,"_** Jack muttered. **_"Clearly your exertions have damaged your brain."_**

"Ah, it's nothing compared to my Easter prep."

**_"Repeated damage, then."_ **

He chuckled, and relaxed. It was... nice, letting someone else take care of things for once. Not that he was about to go making it a habit, although Jack did make it easy to just... follow along behind him as he blazed a trail.

The view helped.

Traveling through the fortress with Jack was always an interesting experience. Doors and walls melted from his path, reforming behind him, so all he had to do was walk in a straight line. Most of the rooms they went through were sad and empty things, with a few of the odd icicle lights on the walls and maybe a table or two in the corners. He'd wondered, once, why Jack had created the rooms at all. Jack had only shrugged, and said he wasn't quite sure- but he had something like fifty-two guest bedrooms, completely empty, on the second floor.

"We're not going to the throne room?" Aster asked, as they turned away from the circular room.

**_"There are holes in the floor,"_** Jack muttered. **_"Don't ask."_**

Aster raised his eyebrows in inquiry anyways.

The Ice Lord sighed; Aster could feel Jack's chest heave beneath him, and heard how the breath rumbled deep from within Jack's lungs. He ground his teeth in a purr, and rubbed his cheek against Jack's shoulder, like a cat marking territory.

**_"The damage is from before,"_** Jack said. His eyes narrowed. **_"I did not realize the floor had been so compromised until it collapsed beneath me."_**

"Jack!" Aster struggled to sit up straight, and looped his arms about Jack's neck. "Are you hurt?"

**_"Hardly. It was a short distance. But now I need to repair the floor."_** He scowled, and shook his head. **_"I will let you know when it is safe again."_**

Aster thought about the last time he'd caught Jack doing repairs, and swallowed. "Mind if I watch? It sounds fascinating."

**_"Watching me glare at ice sounds fascinating."_** Jack gave him a dubious look.

Watching Jack's tendons and veins stand out like cords, watching his muscles flex, watching sweat trickle down along the contours of his muscles... Yes, that sounded fascinating, and more than, but he couldn't quite say that, now could he? "Your magic, mate."

**_"You can watch magic being used?"_ **

"Sometimes, if things are calm." Aster smoothed a hand over Jack's shoulder, and hummed. Oh, those were some very nice muscles right there. "You mind?"

**_"Let's get you warmed up first."_** He pretended not to notice how Jack rolled his eyes, and continued petting those lovely muscles. The contours were very interesting. He'd have to sketch them out later, because he just couldn't study them long enough during the visits...

At some point he'd have to do something about all those sketches he had, that somehow kept migrating to his nest. That, however, would happen once he stopped getting _distracted_ by said sketches.

The room Jack took him to was new, or at least one he'd never seen before. It was... a library, he realized, once his shock wore off. The room was two stories tall, and that was using Jack's measurements, not a human's. There weren't any windows, just dangling chandeliers of glowing icicles, but they cast more than enough light to make up for it. Considering this was Antarctica, and 'night' lasted roughly six months of the year, the lack of windows made sense.

Every wall was covered in shelving. _Wooden_ shelving, which was a surprise. He wondered how Jack had managed that, what with everything else in the fortress being made of ice and snow. The room was as large around as it was tall, with tables and chairs scattered around directly underneath the light sources, hefty looking couches that appeared up to Jack's size and weight, statuary big enough to sit proper on the floor and small enough to be set on tables, and what appeared to be several paintings at first glance, but he realized at a second look that they were more like human television screens. One showed Jack's globe, while others showed other, more obscure scenes- all winter, of course.

And books. The shelves were arranged around the circumference of the room, all the way up to the ceiling, and the shelves were _filled_ with books.

"Oh my," Aster breathed, eyes wide. "Where'd you _find_ all of these?"

**_"Around,"_** Jack said, and lowered him onto a couch. His expression, looking at the books, was one of mingled pride and sorrow. **_"I needed something to do when I wasn't brooding over my globe."_**

Aster winced a bit at the unintentional reminder of Jack's solitude- former solitude, he reminded himself- and sat up properly. "How many books do you have?" After a half-seconds pause, he added, "and can I borrow some?"

Jack grinned, bright and easy. **_"You may as well. I suppose you will whine if I don't let you."_** He looked down at Aster's booted feet. **_"How are your toes?"_**

"She'll be apples, and I _won't_ whine." Much. "Show me around."

Jack's book collection was as eclectic as it was large. He had everything, it seemed, organized by category: several shelves worth of books mortals considered holy, often in both the original languages and translations; bestiaries both mortal and fantastic were shelved next to medical texts, what appeared to be a display through the ages; one entire case had been turned into a repository for scrolls, and while it was all but impossible for them to be original, they looked it. Jack had the complete works of Shakespeare, literary 'classics' from as early as the first English King George to the current age, romances of all kinds and quality, and more.

He had histories, bibliographies, fantasy novels and books on how to do everything from knitting to cooking to publishing. Not a single book appeared to be duplicated. All of them were heavily worn, though Aster _knew_ that each book and scroll had been new when Jack had acquired it.

**_"I think I have read each book at least three times by now,"_** Jack admitted. He pulled a book off a shelf without even looking, and held it out to Aster. **_"You might appreciate this one."_**

'Gift of the Rose', he read. He recognized neither the title nor the author, but from the look of it, it was a newer book, having been published sometime in the last few decades. "I'll give it a go," he promised, and tucked it in one pocket. "I half want to ask how you got all these, but I'm kind of scared of the answer," he teased. "How can your brand of magic bring you books?"

**_"With great difficulty."_** Jack sat down on a couch, and Aster sat next to him, close enough their thighs pressed together. The Ice lord gave him an odd look at that, but didn't move away. **_"There are spells that can be used to retrieve objects. You know about what happens to unsold books, in stores?"_**

"Tossed out," he confirmed, and gestured at the shelves. "All of these?" Even the scrolls?

**_"For the most part,"_** Jack agreed. **_"I did duplicate some of the oldest in my collection."_** He nodded towards the shelves of scrolls. **_"Copies, as near exact as my magic at the time could manage."_**

Aster shook his head. It was almost insane, really, the amount of power and effort Jack had put into his library. Oh, duplicating objects by magic was simple enough- even the weakest sprite could usually manage it, which had led to the myth of fairy gold. But making a copy that wasn't only accurate, but lasted? That was harder. "How long did it take you?" he asked, quietly.

Jack stared at him for a long moment, before sighing and looking away. **_"I would rather not say. It wasn't as if I had anything else to do, after all."_**

"Oh... Jack..." Aster stretched up and wrapped his arms around as much of Jack's shoulders as he could reach. "I'm so sorry, mate."

**_"It is alright. I survived."_** Jack actually wrapped one arm around Aster's back in a hug.

Aster closed his eyes, and relaxed into Jack's embrace, awkward as it was. Jack was solid beneath him, skin soft and warm. He did wish he wasn't wearing his coat; it would have been nice to feel Jack's skin properly on his fur, instead of through layers of quilted fabric.

**_"Now then,"_** Jack said, and shifted away slightly. Aster took the hint and let go of him, though he stayed close. **_"What were you thinking, trying to shovel the courtyard?"_**

"Just because I've got a back door to the place doesn't mean the others do. Figured I'd neaten the place up a bit for you. You've been busy."

The Ice Lord clearly didn't believe him, but one of the ice wyrms- what was his name, Loptr? That sounded right- popped up on a nearby table, just- appearing- as Jack's creations were wont to do.

"Master?" The ice wyrm sounded exasperated. "There is a situation. A demarcation conflict, between several yuki-onna. They will _not_ calm down, and Rin-sama will not make them."

Jack's scowl was a thing to behold. **_"I must deal with this,"_** he said, and pushed up off the couch. **_"Stay, go, just don't break anything. I will be several hours at least."_** He walked out of the room. Aster could hear him muttering about yuki-onna under his breath as he went.

Well. He'd been left alone in what appeared to be the most lived in room in the fortress- and he was including the throne room in that. Aster stood up, and moved over to the closest shelf. He wanted to get a better look at everything.

There were university libraries with less selection, he decided several shelves later. He'd noticed before the breadth of Jack's knowledge, and now he knew where it came from. From this insanely large collection of books, each of which he'd read at _least_ three times.

Aster shivered. The amount of time it must have taken Jack just to read one shelf, let alone all of them... He moved back towards the center of the room, footsteps echoing faintly.

There was one couch that looked more worn than the rest, the pillows oddly shaped- after having a large body pressing against them for long periods, perhaps? Aster sat down, and adjusted several of the pillows better for his comfort.

Then he found the small, stuffed rabbit.

The fabric was gray, the same blued steel shade as his fur. There were embroidered patterns on the shoulders, forehead, and back, in a dark chocolate brown, looking like the stylized ferns on Aster's own shoulders, forehead, and back. The button eyes were green, a particular shade usually found in new pine needles and Aster's own eyes.

Jack had a stuffed animal done like Aster's own, weakened shape.

He really didn't know how to feel about that.

He _hated_ being small, little bigger than an actual rabbit. He was defenceless then and always ached inside; not necessarily physically, but emotionally. But this... this was something meant to be cuddled and held close, to give comfort... And the fabric was worn slightly on the back and sides where someone had rubbed it thin.

Jack not only _had_ this, he held it close. Rubbed his cheek against the stuffed animal's forehead? Maybe, or maybe he just cuddled it.

Stupid to be jealous of a stuffed animal, Aster thought, and set it to one side. Gently. Incredibly foolish, too.

Did Jack sleep with that tiny representation of the Easter Bunny? Did he curl up around it when he dreamed? Did he ever pretend that it _was_ Aster?

He shivered, and began unbuttoning his coat. He shouldn't; he was in the man's own library, a clearly well-loved room. But he could feel himself overheating, due more to a sudden rush of physical arousal than temperature.

What would it be like to curl up in bed with Jack? He imagined the Ice Lord's bedroom would be rather Spartan, but he wasn't interested in that sort of room for the décor. Jack would be- well, he'd make a lovely mattress, actually. It'd be interesting, sprawling out on top of him, or straddling Jack's waist. He'd have to do more stretching, Aster thought, and trailed the tips of his fingers over one hip. Otherwise he could pull a muscle, just from wrapping his legs around Jack's hips.

He'd be able to stroke and lick at those pectorals. He wondered what the Ice Lord would think about having his nipples played with. They were very pale, almost the same shade as the rest of his skin, and despite the cold always flat. It would probably take a bit of careful stroking before they tightened up.

Once they did... Aster ground his teeth in a purr. And then stopped, as he remembered where he was, and that he was about to reach down and start jerking off. While a stuffed animal version of his miniature self watched.

"Oh, that's just not on," he muttered, and buttoned up his coat again. He'd go back to his Warren, take care of his body's demands, and check back in on Jack in a few hours. And maybe come up with a proper courtship gift, too, since cleaning up had turned out to be such a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but- oh, the challenges of courting the Ruler of Winter! Poor Bunny. All the sympathy to him (no not really).


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

There was another pot- vase? Planter? Something like that- on the table when he entered the room, and he regarded it with the same dubious expression he preferred for dealing with the yuki-onna. The flowers in the pot already looked ill; the green leaves had faded, the edges turning brittle and dry in the cold air. The petals were just as bad, if not worse. **_"Does he not learn?"_** he asked, and picked up the pot.

"This one lasted a whole half hour longer," Katya pointed out. She flew across the room, and landed on Jack's shoulder. "They're up to two hours now."

 ** _"Nothing lives here,"_** Jack muttered. **_"No plants, anyways."_**

"So return it. Like all the others."

Like all the others. Jack huffed, and waved her off. As if it was that simple.

He had been _joking_ before. Trying to shovel the courtyard hadn't damaged Aster's brain, only his hands. Yet- his actions since then- they didn't make any sense!

First had been the cut flowers, which had frozen in the cold. Jack hadn't known they were cut at the time, so he'd brought them to Aster to apologize for their demise, where they'd promptly melted into a nasty black slime. After the slime had been cleaned up, Aster had given Jack a small sampling of chocolates and sent him on his way.

After that had been more flowers, and a small note to assure that they, too, were cut. The ice coating their petals and leaves hadn't been very attractive, so Jack had sent the flowers off with one of Katya's bodies, to be disposed of in the ocean. Things had escalated; Jack now had Katya keep an eye on the near daily offerings just so Jack could retrieve them and take them back before they died.

The flowers were not the only gifts he was getting, just the ones that needed care. He also found drawings, or a few small oil paintings, in between plants. The artwork all belonged to Aster; he wasn't sure what to make of them, though they were all beautiful. For the moment he kept them stacked on a table in his library, where they would be both safe and out of the way.

Every time he visited the Warren, to return dying plants or otherwise, Aster gave him chocolates. The rabbit had told him, earlier, that chocolates were for special events, not an everyday type of thing, so why...?

He huffed, and picked up the plant. **_"I will be at the Warren,"_** he said. Katya smirked and laughed silently at him. He wished she would share the joke, because he didn't get it.

Jack concentrated, and transported himself quickly to a spot prepared especially for his unique traveling methods. Dropping in Aster's cellar any time he wanted to visit was uncomfortable at best, mildly dangerous at worst. Aster had dug out a small hollow near his burrow after Jack had knocked into some shelving, and gashed his forehead open. There hadn't been very much blood, but the rabbit had fussed as though Jack had nearly lost his head.

His fault for admitting his weakness, Jack supposed. He wasn't proud of having tried to kill himself. And what greater insult to a spirit of hope than being told of how one had failed? Now Aster thought he was fragile, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Although the concern was... pleasant, he supposed. If utterly unnecessary.

Aster was in the Warren, as Katya would have told him otherwise. He wasn't certain what to make of his creations' interest in the Easter Bunny, but it was useful to him. The only question now was- where? The Warren was bigger than he had first realized, and his first visit had involved walking all over looking for where the rabbit was sleeping. There was, of course, the main cavern; Aster's half hidden home, that he called a 'burrow'; and numerous side caverns that seemed to multiply between each visit.

Not that there had been very many visits. Mostly, Jack stopped by the burrow, either to return dying flowers or to check with Aster where they were going to visit next. There hadn't been too many field trips since Aster's attempt at shoveling the courtyard. He had some project, Jack assumed. Not that he could miss the trips too much, thanks to having to go to the Warren almost every day to return the flowers.

 ** _"Ah, Kangaroo."_** He should have guessed Aster would be in the burrow. **_"Another one? Have you learnt nothing by now?"_**

Aster didn't turn around from the stove. He just waved vaguely at one already crowded countertop, that was covered in trays of shaped chocolates and what Jack assumed were recipe books. "Jus' put it over there, mate. How long did it last?"

 ** _"Two hours, according to Katya."_** Jack peered at one open book, but the crabbed and slanted handwriting made his eyes hurt. **_"When will you stop bringing me flowers?"_**

At that, the rabbit looked away from- a pot of chocolate, as it turned out. "You don't like 'em?"

**_"They are more attractive when alive."_ **

Aster grinned, and reached over to pat the Ice Lord's closest arm. "No worries, mate. Just trying to make something work, is all. Pretty sure you'll like the end result."

Jack tilted his head, and shrugged. Perhaps. Aster turned back to his chocolate, intent, clearly in no mood or mindset to be company of any sort. He might as well return to the fortress, or perhaps go annoy North.

Annoying North was not his most favorite of pastimes, only because he had obtained a new batch of the 'movies' humans had put out for entertainment. The most recently obtained was the fifth in a series, of the style that had once been referred to as 'high fantasy'. Jack eyed Aster sidelong, and wondered if he would be interested in watching the movies later. It wouldn't be anything like visiting jungle ruins or stunning vistas, but it could be fun.

 ** _"Aster,"_** he said, just as he was distracted by a small, waddling shape passing by the open door. **_"Hold that thought,"_** he murmured, and went to see what that was.

Nothing harmful could get into the Warren, a point of pride for the rabbit. Yet occasionally a small animal found its way into the land of eternal spring. Was that what he had seen? Yet the appearance had been wrong. He knew of no animal shaped like a chicken egg.

Because, he realized a moment later, he hadn't seen an animal. He'd seen a walking chicken egg.

That was... bizarre.

**_"Aster."_ **

He looked away from his pot of chocolate, and raised his eyebrows. Jack looked disturbed, and not in an 'accidentally walking in on fauns and nymphs' sort of way.

Spring spirits. His libido was actually rather low compared to others of his season.

"What's it, mate? You right?"

Jack shook his head, and gestured vaguely at the open door. **_"There was an egg?"_**

"Oh, have my googies started sprouting already? Bit early in the year for it." Was that all?

**_"It was walking."_ **

Ah, so that was why Jack sounded so... bothered. "Yes, Jack. They do that." He turned back to his pot of chocolate, more to hide a grin than because it needed the attention.

 ** _"On legs. And it's an egg."_** Jack moved closer, hooves making hollow thudding sounds on the floorboards. **_"Eggs aren't supposed to walk, Kangaroo."_**

"Walking requires legs, yes," he agreed. "And these ones are. They're my googies, Jack. Enchanted Easter Eggs."

Jack's hand pressed down against his hip, warm and large and very, very welcome. He _just_ kept from purring in response. **_"Enchanted,"_** Jack said, and stuck his finger in the pot of chocolate. Aster turned, just so he could watch Jack lick and suck his finger clean.

No, down, bad libido. Not while Jack was here.

"What, you thought I carried and hid all the googies by hand?" He shifted sideways to bump his shoulder against Jack's chest. "I'm good mate, but not that good. I tried that I'd be knackered in an hour, never mind getting to all six continents and through all the time zones."

 ** _"Perhaps. I hadn't really thought about it before."_** Jack went to stick his finger back in the pot of chocolate. Aster smacked the back of his hand with the spoon.

"No double dipping."

 ** _"Oh, very well."_** Jack licked the chocolate off the back of his hand, and smiled.

"You've got a smudge right..." Aster reached up, and almost managed to touch Jack's mouth before he pulled back slightly, and licked at the chocolate smearing the corner of his mouth.

 ** _"Thank you. You don't think eggs with legs are... weird?"_** He turned and looked out the door, without moving his hand from Aster's hip, thank El-Ahrairah.

Weird? "Mate, if you think walking eggs are weird, it's a good thing I don't have any samples of Gallifreyan flora. Them buggers were _really_ strange! And predatory," he added, thinking about it.

Jack gave him an odd look, but the slight tension in his shoulders eased up as he relaxed. Well, good. "When I'm finished with this, mind sitting for a portrait?"

 ** _"For a- why?"_** Jack glared suspiciously at him from under his eyebrows.

"Got art of all my friends, don't I? But nothing proper of you yet. And you're here, I've got time and supplies, why not?"

A painting of Jack- a proper portrait- he lusted after the idea, and not in the rooting sense. He wanted to capture Jack's sensual beauty, the lines of his muscles, the civility in his eyes and the wildness of his hair and horns. Jack was the perfect challenge for any artist worth his salt; anatomy and the way his coloring made shading difficult, and the sheer intensity he brought to _everything_.

Yes, Aster wanted to pin that focus down onto canvas, to capture Jack's appearance in paint.

And if it gave him a lovely image to admire and sigh over, well, that was private and no one had to know.

 ** _"I suppose you'll bribe me with food?"_** Jack said, eyeing the pot of chocolate hopefully.

"Oy! You've had enough of that." Aster shoved at Jack's chest, not at all seriously, and pointed at the cupboards. "Help yourself to something, by all means."

 ** _"Maybe later."_** Jack stayed where he was, hand on Aster's hip, and close enough that the Pooka's shoulder brushed his chest every time either of them moved. It felt very... homey, and Aster felt something inside him threaten to melt like chocolate left on a high heat. He could almost see it, could definitely feel it; working in his garden during the day, then heading inside to whip up a quick dinner, being joined by the Ice Lord, cuddling close together until the food was ready, then after dinner curling up together on a couch or in the nest and just... being.

He wanted the sex, longed for it, but he wanted and longed for the emotional intimacy too.

The chocolate was almost done, and while he wanted to rush, he held himself steady. No sense in wrecking a batch when it'd be going to Jack anyways. He wanted to show the Ice Lord his _best_. He poured the chocolate out of the pan and into the moulds, each one shaped like a snowflake, a snowman, or a pine tree. He was able to put a bit more detail into his moulds than humans did, but only from long, _long_ practice.

Jack shifted, and all but pressed up against Aster's back. **_"What's wrong? Your whiskers got all... droopy."_**

Droopy? He blinked several times, and then looked sidelong at Jack. It wasn't an unusual word, certainly, but... not exactly what he'd expected to hear the Ice Lord say. It was a bit informal for him.

Although, Jack had been getting less and less formal with the Guardians, of late. He was relaxing around them.

More around Aster than the others, he realized, and pressed sideways against Jack. "Just had a thought, is all."

 ** _"A droopy thought,"_** Jack said, and brushed one finger over the side of Aster's nose. **_"Anything I can beat up for you?"_**

"Nah, not really." Technically, Jack could beat up the spirit of time, but Ombric hadn't done anything to deserve _that_. "Just... remembered how old I am."

Jack tilted his head back in silent question.

"Older than the planet," he admitted.

The Ice Lord gave him an odd look, and then smirked. **_"Ah, so you are senile. This explains much."_**

"Wha- no, I'm not senile!" Aster turned away from the finished chocolates now waiting to cool, and glared up at Jack. "And what do you even mean by that, you drongo?"

 ** _"Well,"_** Jack said, grinning now. He started to back away. **_"You act like a hormone-addled teenager so much- hey!"_**

Aster fumbled for another dishcloth, and threw it. " _Teenager_? Teenager!"

Jack ducked through the doorway, laughing. Aster grinned to himself, even as he chased the bloke out of his front yard and down the hill. "Get back here!" He yelled, waving his dishcloth over his head, like it was an actual threat. "Take your punishment like a man!"

 ** _"I'm not a man, I'm a monster!"_** Jack leapt into the air, and executed a triple spin. He landed with perfect grace, laughed in what sounded like pure delight, and took off running again.

"Oh-!" Aster tossed the cloth to one side, and then dropped to all fours to race after him. "You don't want to race a rabbit, mate!"

Jack glanced back over his shoulder, grinning, just in time for Aster to leap at him. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Jack thankfully on the bottom. Aster honestly liked how he was the smaller one of this partnership, wasn't just resigned to it, but he didn't want to get squashed either.

They tumbled and rolled, mock wrestling. Aster quickly lost his upper hand, if he'd ever had it in the first place, and found himself pinned under a gleeful looking Jack. The Ice Lord _cackled_ , and then began skittering his fingers up and down Aster's side, looking for ticklish spots.

He found them. Aster howled with laughter and shrieked protests to the uncaring winter ruler. He squirmed and shoved and twisted and laughed too hard to breathe.

Finally, he managed to get his feet pressed up against Jack's stomach, and _shoved_. His legs were strong, and he was beautifully braced. Jack went flying, and not on the wind.

There was a splash, and a howl like a glacial wind abruptly cut off.

"Jack!" Aster scrambled to his feet, and dove after Jack without looking.

He hit the Ice Lord's chest just as he sat up, knocking them both down into the Color River.

He sat up, spluttering, and pressed his hands to Jack's shoulders. "Sorry about that," he muttered, and blinked the last of the paint from his eyes. Good thing it was water based... and all natural.

Jack shifted, and even sitting on the bottom of the river the paint only came up to mid-chest. Aster shivered, and pressed closer, looping his arms about the Ice Lord's neck.

 ** _"Why do you have a river of_** **paint _?"_** Jack asked. He lifted one hand, and studied his palm. His skin had turned multiple colors- but even as Aster watched, Jack's skin frosted over, and then the ice flaked off when he flexed. The paint went with the ice, leaving his hand white again.

"Well, I can't paint every single one of my googies by hand anymore, can I? It was one thing when I only had to do a couple thou, but we're talking millions now. For each country!" Aster tightened his grip on Jack's neck, and regained his attention. "So, river of paint," he said, all but purring, and pressed closer.

Jack's eyes widened, and his hands landed on Aster's hips. **_"Ah,"_** he said, and then lifted and pushed and Aster found himself standing on the bank. How had that happened? And for that matter, _why_?

The Ice Lord stood up, exposed skin and fur turning white and shedding ice as he moved. He glanced at Aster, sidelong, eyes wide and wondering. Such a shy look, Aster wondered, and realized he was blushing beneath his fur.

Well. Wasn't that interesting.

"Ah," he said, and gestured at the bank. "Why don't you- I'll just get my things for the portrait."

 ** _"You still want to do that?"_** Jack asked, and gestured at Aster. **_"You're... dripping."_**

So he was. His fur was green, and blue, and purple, and pink, and yellow... "Eh, not the first time. It'll wash off later." Did Jack want to help? No, better not to ask, not yet. Not with how Jack kept giving him shy little glances. But... Oh, yes, it would happen, he knew it.

"Just find a spot and get comfortable," he stammered, and hurried back to his burrow. He had a portrait to paint... And he knew just where he'd hang it, too. The bedroom wall would be the perfect place, where he could look at it whenever he was in his nest.

At least until Jack joined him in his nest, at which point he'd be able to move it. No point in fantasising about what he had, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be time-skipped by a week or so. Also, smut.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

Aster shivered, and carded his blunt claws through the fur on his stomach. Today- oh, yes, today had been good. Very good. Most of it, the best parts, had been spent with his Jack. A tiny, prideful part of himself was none too pleased with how he'd acted, how he'd taken the smallest opening in order to caress heavily muscled and scarred arms, or how he'd pressed up along Jack's side, or how he'd all but displayed himself when he'd sat down on the ice throne.

His fingers moved lower.

Jack had been bemused at that last, how Aster had sat in the throne ("Not at all properly- you shouldn't hook your legs over the arm like that") but...

Aster bit his lower lip, breathing heavily through his nose. His eyes were hooded, gaze focused on the oil painting he'd hug up on the wall. It was his best job, but nowhere near perfect. He'd managed to catch Jack's feral, physical beauty, but none of the quiet majesty beneath the surface. Jack was so much more than his physique, although that was quite appealing all on its own.

No, it was the shyness as he spoke with the children, the wonder that they didn't run away screaming. But then, Jack's every word and motion only reinforced what the children already knew. He was a giant, true, but a gentle one. It would have broken his heart to hurt any of them.

That gentle strength was what made Aster's stomach quiver and his legs ache to part. Jack ran, but not because he wasn't interested. Oh no, there was no mistaking the heat in those vivid blue eyes- or the hesitation when things started to get interesting. It wasn't often that Aster encountered people bigger than he was- he was a six-foot-one Pookan warrior who'd gone into semi-retirement in Australia, he wasn't fragile by any means... but Jack could break him over one knee with ease.

Not that he would. But the very fact that he could, well, that had the winter spirit back peddling. Regretfully, yes, but as fast as possible.

It was the amazing capacity for forgiveness that Jack showed, that made Aster want to wrap him up in his arms and hide the Ice Lord away from the unforgiving world. He'd been part of that crowd, throwing sneers and insults Jack's way, and breathing a sigh of relief when the gentle spirit vanished- but he'd been an idiot then. He knew better now, so much better, and was still more than a little awed that Jack had forgiven the pain Aster had caused.

He gasped, and wrapped his hand around his fully extended cock. Times like _this_ , he couldn't think on Jack's emotional state, lovely as it was, for very long. Not when his body demanded the feeling of those large, strong, _gentle_ hands wrapped around his hips, or when he tilted his head back for a kiss that never came.

But it would come. He knew it would, one day. He hoped it would be soon, but the kiss was inevitable.

And what came after... That was inevitable too.

He stroked himself once, twice, and then flattened both hands on the tops of his thighs. The kissing... That would be something. Their facial shapes were quite different, between Aster's blunt muzzle and Jack's flat profile, his nose making barely a bump out from the middle of his face, but that would just mean... practice.

Lots and lots of very enjoyable practice.

He ground his teeth in a purr, and reached to the small vial of aromatic oil he'd set by the side of his nest. Aster's stomach muscles tightened further. He'd taken to carrying around a vial or two on his bandolier, just in case. He wouldn't need it for a long time, but what if the opportunity came around and they had to stop and wait because he wasn't prepared? Any possible delay would only give Jack time to doubt, to insist on holding back.

Though, honestly, Aster wasn't sure _he'd_ be willing to go all the way the first time they finally got together. Jack's cock was, presumably, proportional to the rest of his body- which meant big. Very big. Not a bad thing, no, but something Aster would want to get used to gradually. Or prepped _very_ thoroughly for.

Something Jack would no doubt agree with. The Ice Lord had brutal strength, if controlled, and even the most gentle of lovemaking could end in bruises when one's partner was that strong.

Aster shivered and poured some of the oil out over his fingers. It smelt of clouds before the snow fell, of new ice, of cold and faintly, the smoke and tang of a clean male's musk. It smelt of Jack, near as Aster had managed, and the scent alone was enough to curl his toes and make his pulse pound down in his groin.

He rubbed his fingers over the tip of his cock, and then down the length to his balls. He looked one last time at the painting, and then closed his eyes.

Jack was not brutal, however strong he was. His hands would skim down from Aster's shoulders to his elbows, and then back up and down along the sides of his ribcage. Those large hands could wrap all the way around Aster's waist, and had. It didn't feel confining, not to Aster. The fingers might have been chill, but the touch, the expression on Jack's face and the look in his eyes, had always made the Pooka feel warm.

Those hands would tighten the slightest bit, and then Jack would pick him up. Aster would catch Jack's shoulders, not because he needed the balance, but because it was a chance to caress the shifting muscles and toughened skin. Jack's hide could turn a blade without his notice, but he felt the faintest brush of cobweb. Aster wanted to explore that, to touch and stare and _taste_ \- and he would, in the fullness of time.

First, though, first Jack would carry Aster over to that throne, sized for someone nine feet in height and close to five hundred pounds in weight. It was ice, but Jack was thoughtful, always remembered the effect the cold had on others, and there'd be a blanket draped over the entire thing. The contrast of sensations- the blanket would be wool, Jack liked wool, it stayed warm even when wet- soft blanket over hard ice, soft touches ruffling his fur-

Aster groaned, and tilted his head to the side. Jack watched his neck, sometimes, when he thought Aster wasn't looking. Did he want to mouth along the line of muscle, to bite where neck met shoulder? Did he want to suck bruises that'd be hidden by the fur, or did he just want to touch, to nuzzle, to breathe in the scent of _Pooka_ and _spring_?

Jack's hands would be busy, moving from Aster's waist to his hips, his thighs. He'd spread the Pooka's legs, slow and gentle and he'd stop if Aster even thought about protesting- but he wouldn't think about it. No, he'd urge Jack on with quiet murmurs, quieter sighs, stroke his hands over the Ice Lord's tangled mane and as far down Jack's back as he could reach.

Jack would smile, hardly believing that Aster wanted the touches, wanted to go further. Aster would have to kiss that disbelief away. He'd lick at the base of those curling horns, where Jack could feel it. He'd purr and chirp and arch his back and try to spread his legs wider- but Jack would hold onto his thighs, gentle and immovable, and Aster wouldn't have enough room to wrap his legs around Jack, pull him close.

They'd talk, voices quiet while Jack checked to be sure, absolutely sure that Aster wanted this. Aster would whine and yes, he'd beg. Jack was slow, so slow, and it took him forever to realize that yes, this was what Aster wanted. The package might look different, but- oh! Oh, it had its points, and it was what was underneath that mattered the most.

Aster was a shapeshifter, from a species of shapeshifters. He knew how to look beneath the surface.

Jack would huff and laugh, and finally- _finally_ \- he'd let Aster spread his legs. He'd encourage Aster to sprawl, one leg hooked over each arm of the throne, leaving the Pooka entirely on display for Jack's wonderful, wondering eyes. The disbelief would be back, the hope that this was all _real_ , and Aster would have to use Jack's horns to pull him in for another series of kisses.

Jack would shift his hands; clutch the arms of the throne just below where Aster's knees were. He imagined the ice might crack, as Jack let a little of his restraint go.

Aster would chuckle, and smile, and shift just enough so his knees covered Jack's fingers.

Jack would surprise him. The Ice Lord was like a glacier, and while they normally moved slowly- they could be fast, too.

So Jack would go down on his knees, would dip his head and mouth at the slight concave of Aster's stomach. Then he'd go lower, tongue poking out to lap at the tip of Aster's cock and draw a groan from the Pooka.

Jack would be careful, so careful of his teeth, so he wouldn't swallow Aster down. No, he'd mouth and lick up and down Aster's length, nuzzle at the sensitive flesh to either side of the Pooka's balls. He'd murmur things, wonderful things, things Aster wasn't supposed to hear because it would all be how Jack had never thought this would happen. How he'd believed no one would ever want to touch the Ice Lord, who surely had flesh as cold as his element.

Aster wouldn't answer those murmurs. He'd savor the expression on Jack's face and the steadily gaining confidence as Jack worked the Pooka to a height of pleasure.

And then, because Jack occasionally had the _naughtiest_ turn of mind- he'd stop there, seconds before Aster was ready to explode, while his blood sparkled through his veins and he couldn't think about anything but the physical, how wonderful it all was. Aster would hiss and glare, though the hiss would be weak, the glare hazy. How _dare_ Jack stop just then?

Jack would grin, bright and wicked, and duck lower. He'd press his tongue against the sensitive muscle of Aster's hole, the tip of his tongue pressing into the tight ring.

Aster moved his slick fingers down, pressed a pad against his hole and groaned. His back arched as he tried to move into the touches phantom and physical, feet shifting restlessly.

He'd arch then, too, but Jack would press one giant hand to Aster's stomach and hold him still with ease. His other hand would move- no need to keep Aster's legs splayed, because by that point Aster wouldn't have the will or coordination to close them- and those long fingers, an artist's fingers, a brawler's fingers, would trace along the smooth skin and faintly bulging veins of Aster's prick, up and down, up and down, Jack's hands cool (but not cold) and so different from Aster's own fever-bright temperature.

It would be enough, just enough, and he'd scream and come and his semen would cover the back of Jack's hand. A few drops would get into his fur, but most of it- yes. It would go on Jack's hand.

Jack would pull back and study the mess on his hand, and give Aster a chance to catch his breath.

Aster reached up with his other hand, the one not slick with oil and caressing himself, and wiped at the ejaculate that made his fur clump together. His fingers got sticky and it didn't do much for his fur.

Jack didn't have fur. It would be easy to clean his hand off.

In his imagination, the Ice Lord licked at the back of his hand, gaze never wavering from Aster's face.

In the present, Aster licked the taste of himself off his fingers.

His cock, already half-hard, twitched in both present and imagined future, hardening again. Pooka hadn't needed much of a recovery period anyways, and Aster's had become, essentially, seconds after he'd become the spirit of Hope and Life.

He didn't think Jack would mind.

Jack _wouldn't_ mind, because he'd finish cleaning his hand and lean forward for a quick kiss. It'd be the first time they'd take the kiss further, past lips sliding on lips and breath mingling with breath. Jack's tongue would dart out, trace the line of Aster's lower lip, and Aster would respond in kind. He'd taste himself on Jack's tongue, and groan.

Jack would move down Aster's body then, lips caressing Aster's fur, the faint hint of teeth scraping over the skin underneath. He'd reach Aster's stomach, then his hip, then his groin all over again. This time he'd ignore Aster's cock, Aster's whine, and slide one hand underneath his arse and lift.

He'd lick and touch at Aster's hole, and murmur something about how they couldn't go any further, there was nothing to make this easier-

And Aster would be ready with his little vial of oil.

Jack would laugh. He'd catch the reasoning quickly, and he'd laugh and nuzzle at the join of Aster's hip. He'd lower Aster back down onto the throne, and coat his fingers in the oil, smile at how it smelt of him already.

Then he'd slide his first finger in, stretching muscles that would clamp down as they were forced wide. Jack's fingers were big.

Aster would keen, his claws scratching against the arms of the throne, his toes curling and his legs stretching as they straightened. Jack would laugh again, and lean forward to loom over Aster. He'd murmur into Aster's ear, about how he looked. How beautiful, how wanton, and how he wished Aster could see himself, because there was nothing Jack wanted to look at more than this.

Aster would murmur back. He'd tell Jack how good it felt, and that one finger would slide in and out and his body relax. He'd say how much he loved having the Ice Lord over him, how safe he felt, how Jack's every touch and word made him feel wanted. He'd tell Jack how beloved he was, and kiss Jack when he tried to speak words of doubt and self-derision.

In answer, Jack would add a second finger. Aster would see sparks, and all thought would go out the proverbial window. He'd claw at Jack, catch fistfuls of tangled mane, until he finally caught hold of Jack's horns and tug, trying to press closer to those lovely fingers, long and thick, that stretched him so beautifully. He'd keen, his pulse pounding in his cock and his balls tight and then he'd come again, and Jack would watch, so intently, as his fingers slid in and out to the time of Aster's wails and the twitching of his cock.

Jack would add a third finger, and Aster would be hard again. He'd wail, and writhe, and begging and curses would fall from his lips in equal measure. He'd be held down, again, and Jack would lean forward and claim Aster's mouth in a hard, demanding kiss.

He'd come again. That third time, his vision would go white. His entire body would arch, and when he could breathe again, could see, it'd be just in time to feel Jack slide a fourth finger in.

Aster would whine, ask why, when he already felt so good.

And Jack would tell Aster, he was preparing the Pooka. For something bigger than fingers.

After all, Jack hadn't come once yet. That wasn't fair at all.

Aster would get hard again so fast his head would spin. He'd sigh, and purr, as Jack eased his tired body into some semblance of preparation.

Then Jack would pull his fingers out, one by one, leaving Aster hard and empty. Not for long though, because Jack would stand up to his full nine feet in height, and pull the loincloth off. He'd stand, half proud and half ashamed, while Aster studied the revealed cock. And yes, it would be big.

Jack would move back, and help Aster turn over, tail in the air, arse at the right level for Jack to press in. Jack would apologize, but Aster would insist on his _doing_ it. From behind would be easier, at least for the first couple of times. Jack would laugh again, and his hands would caress Aster's hips and thighs before he pressed in a little at a time.

Their lovemaking would be slow to start. Jack would be so careful of his strength, of his size, because despite all of the preparation he'd done before he was bigger than his fingers. Aster would grunt and moan and try to speed things up, because the stretch was delicious and he wanted more. He _wanted_ Jack to pound into him, to feel nothing more than the stretch and the throbbing, wanted to know down to his bones that Jack was his mate, that his love was returned.

Slowly, Jack's thrusts would get harder. His fingers would tighten on Aster's hips. Aster would come again from the stimulation, but he wouldn't have the chance to soften, not with Jack pounding into him with all the strength he dared use. Not even that would feel like enough, not until the Ice Lord finally lost all control and Aster was clutched tight to Jack's chest even as he was pushed down onto the seat of the throne.

He'd come a fifth and final time, and Jack would _finally_ come too. His seed would fill Aster entirely, as Aster's smeared over the blanket and over his own stomach and thighs. He'd feel Jack's cock soften inside of him; human refractory periods took longer than Pooka. But Jack wouldn't pull out. He'd lift Aster up, still impaled, and he'd sit down with the Pooka on his lap, leaning back so Aster's head rested on Jack's broad shoulder.

He'd ask if Aster was alright, and Aster would have to find the energy to assure him that yes, it had been very, very, _very_ good. Jack would smile, and wrap an arm around Aster's chest. His other hand would stroke through the wet and matted fur on Aster's stomach, occasionally dipping lower to play with Aster's limp, mostly retracted prick, or his balls, which would feel empty of all semen.

He would drift off like that, seated on Jack's lap, Jack's cock deep inside him, Jack's fingers urging the occasional twitch out of his tired body. He'd drift off to kisses on the side of his neck and the occasional tear dripping down onto his fur.

And when he woke up, the loving touches would start up again. Jack might have taken longer to recover, but his stamina was incredible.

Aster screamed at the thought, and managed to pull a sixth orgasm out of his body. He eased his own fingers out, and felt every muscle relax in the aftermath. He was messy, and the grooming would take hours, but the ache that had grown throughout the day had been eased.

It wouldn't be appeased, though, not until Jack himself took care of it.

That was going to take some time, Aster thought, with a last look at the painting on his wall. Until it happened, he'd just have to let his own hands and imagination take care of the problem.

Then he rolled over and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know what's funny? I'm posting chapter Twenty-Three, and working on chapter Thirty-Five. Anyways, as promised last chapter, smut! Fantasy only at this point, Jack's still at the "... Sex is... what?" stage. Also a the "Bunny, why are you circling me like an obsessive compulsive person?" stage. Poor boys.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

"I don't like this," Loptr grumbled. He lashed his tail back and forth, and glared down at the image showing in the tabletop. The image- Aster, of course- remained oblivious and unchanged despite the ice wyrm's ire. "They'll take advantage, you know, just see if they don't!"

"Oh, hush, stop borrowing trouble." Katya looked up at Jack. "For the record, my lord, I think it's sweet. And the vines haven't died yet."

Jack glanced over at the four pots, and huffed. The flowering vines looked strange; green and growing things did not belong in his fortress, however much the kangaroo wished to change that. Although, he admitted, the plants in question were more black than green. The stalks and leaves had barely any color at all.

**_"The vines are unimportant,"_** he said, and frowned at the image. Aster looked happy, and safe. Gardening in his Warren, you couldn't get safer than that. **_"Where did you see the black horses, Katya?"_**

The ice phoenix stretched her wings, and stared off into the distance while looking through her other bodies' eyes. "Ah, yes. St. John's, Newfoundland. They may not still be there."

**_"If they are what I expect, the signs will linger."_** The Nightmare King's magic was obvious enough, now that he knew how to look. Much like the stain left by an old fashioned, leaking oil tanker.

He concentrated, and the image flickered and changed. He managed only an overhead view, from cloud level. The ice crystals in the clouds were receptive to his magic, but unfortunately, outside of freezers, there wasn't anything closer to the ground. A pity.

Not that he needed a closer look. The magic was obvious. Nightmare sand, if he remembered correctly. These days, he did. It had been a brief toy of Pitch's, back just before Jack had transformed into the Ice Lord. Apparently, it was a toy the Nightmare King had picked back up again. The dark magic stained the air about St. John's, a thick cloud much like smog, but visible only to those with the eyes to see magic.

**_"Pitch,"_** he growled, voice harsher than normal.

His creations looked nervously up at him. "Should we carry a warning to the Guardians?" Katya asked.

It was tempting to say that the Guardians could take care of themselves. Jack shoved up from his throne, and walked over to the globe. There were lights there now, in Burgess. He wasn't sure when, exactly, the lights had shown up, but they made the Guardians, and especially Aster, smile.

He rested one hand on the top of the globe, and felt the magic crackle across his palm. **_"Tell them,"_** he said. **_"What we know- that he has been using the nightmare sand again. We haven't any more than that."_**

"And of your plans?" Katya asked. When he did not immediately answer, he heard her wings flutter, and then she said, "Ah, you _do_ have plans, don't you?"

He frowned. Technically, he supposed he did. **_"Of course I do. But tell them nothing of what I intend."_**

"That should be easy," he heard Loptr mutter. "Since we have no idea of what you intend ourselves."

Katya clacked her beak. "Soonest left, soonest told, soonest returned," she said. "Shall I take North and Sandy?"

"That will leave me Tooth and Aster. Acceptable."

He felt their departure, the brief flare and sparkle of magic that was sliding ever so slowly away from his own patterns. It was only right and proper that they gain their own signature, their independence from him and each other, but it felt... odd, at the moment.

He set it aside, and returned to his throne. Pitch had been quiet almost as long as Jack had forgotten his former role. He supposed thirty years of solitude in a dungeon created specifically to hold a master of shadows would do that. Jack couldn't help but smirk. He'd been young to the increase of his power, then, and yet he'd still managed to create a dungeon Pitch Black could not escape.

Jack frowned again, and concentrated on the table. The image of Newfoundland changed, and went back to Aster. The rabbit...

Pitch had a grudge against the Guardians, Aster in particular. Everyone knew that, though no one knew precisely _why_. He had tried to destroy them in 2012- Jack had watched from the sidelines the brief clash between the self-titled king and the Guardians. The fight had been very short, and very one sided, for all of Pitch's preparations. Oh, there had been something about all the baby teeth being stolen from Tooth's Palace, but it had done nothing but put a hitch in the Guardians' stride. They had beaten Pitch, gotten the teeth back, and everything had become business as normal.

Jack had... _longed_ to talk to them. Just once. He'd wanted to mention how he'd admired their skill in fighting the boogieman, how impressed he'd been by their cooperation.

But they had left, returning to their individual places, their duties, and he had never worked up the courage to approach them.

He didn't want to say that _that_ moment was the cause of his... break. There had been many factors at play, not least of which the moon's silence and the spirits of his own season all deriding him. Yet, if anything, watching the Guardians together- their friendship, their care of each other- had been the straw to break the proverbial camel's back. He had wanted that. Just one friend.

Just one.

But he had been alone. He had broken down, beneath the uncaring moon, and the rest, as they said, was history.

Jack lifted one hand, and studied it. So very different from the hand he'd used to have. _He_ was so very different from how he'd used to be, so it was par for the course, he supposed. Yet, of everything that had changed, his hands were... He didn't know how to explain it, even to himself. His feet were nothing in comparison. Hooves instead of toes? He couldn't say he missed them. But his _hands_...

**_"Aster doesn't care,"_** Jack said, startling himself with his own voice. Yet it was true. No one much cared how he looked- oh, there were those spirits that cared he was the Ice Lord, ruler of winter and bringer of cold and ice- but his appearance? Was rather _tame_ compared to some.

He missed how he'd once been. He always would. But...

Like this, he was able to curb the other winter spirits. Like this, he was able to play with the children. It healed a part of his heart that had bled for so long he had ceased to notice the pain.

Like this... Like this, he had _friends_.

**_"Perhaps it was worth it."_** Wasn't there that one philosophy that stated you had to give something up in order to get something? He had given up his humanity, so to speak, and had eventually gained friends. Was that what the philosophy meant?

Did it matter?

He huffed, and looked at the image in the table top again. It didn't matter. As long as he performed his duty, as long as he could keep his friends safe, he would do whatever it took and give up whatever he had to. _He_ did not matter; only they did.

His throat was tight, but he shoved the emotion down. If he, perhaps, wished for someone to put _him_ first, before anything else...

No, it was too much to ask for. He had enough. Did he have to be greedy besides?

**_"Pitch,"_** he reminded himself. **_"Whatever he plans, he will go after the Guardians soon or late. He will certainly terrify the children."_** Fear was not necessarily a bad thing, but fear of the boogieman- the monster in the closet or under the bed, the imaginary fears that kept children up at night and gave them bad dreams... _That_ fear was unnecessary. It was harmful.

For that reason alone, Jack would help to stop Pitch. He did not need the rest of it- Pitch's goals to plunge the world into darkness, his overdone and melodramatic manner, or his relation to Mother Nature- but such things certainly did not _help_ Pitch's situation.

The simplest plans were the best. He doubted Katya would even call this a _plan_. It would be easy enough to track Pitch down, overpower him, and then throw him back in the dungeon for another thirty years or so. He had greater control over his magic now; what had been all but impossible to escape could and would be turned into impregnable, from Alcatraz to Tartarus.

It would get Pitch out of the way. He somehow doubted the Guardians would approve of such a solution, but... He touched the tip of one finger to Aster's shoulder, in the image, and then dismissed the spell that let him see through ice. He had work to do.

He stood again, and turned- and saw the vines.

Sometime between when he'd last looked at them and now, they had begun to flower. There was one blossom already, the others in various stages of opening.

Aster had given him roses.

Yet, what roses! The single blossom was a pale, pale blue, the same shade as his ice, and seemed dusted with frost. But when he reached his powers towards the plant, the petals were free of all ice crystals.

He circled the blooming plant, and then knelt down to study the flower more closely. Each petal was perfect. The entire thing was perfect. And- he touched it gently with one finger, all but feeling the _life_ flowing through the vine- alive.

**_"Aster,"_** he whispered, unable to look away. **_"What have you done?"_**

"Are you alright Jack?" Tooth touched his shoulder. "You seem... distracted?"

**_"Just thinking,"_** he said, and forced his attention back to matters at hand. **_"I have two reasons for coming today."_**

"Is checking up on Sunjay one of those reasons?" Tooth asked, smiling at the little fairy curled up on Jack's shoulder. _He_ couldn't see her, as there wasn't a humanoid alive capable of craning their neck around that much, but he could feel her warmth, tiny little thing that she was.

**_"An unanticipated side benefit."_** Jack folded his arms, and stared out at the mountains. **_"I- had a memory,"_** he said, changing what he'd intended to say. **_"Perhaps you might be able to use it, in your search."_**

"Oh!" Tooth hovered at his eye level, beaming. "Oh, that's wonderful! Yes, of course, come with me. I'll make a pot of tea and you can tell me all about it."

Jack smiled, bemused as usual by Tooth's enthusiasm. And her near obsession with tea. He had thought that was a British habit; no one had said it was something shared by people in India...

He settled down in his usual spot, on a sturdy armchair he suspected had been 'borrowed' from North. Tooth fluttered back and forth in her small kitchen, and finally joined him in the sitting room with a pot of tea. They did the usual milk and sugar routine, and settled back to enjoy their first cups in silence broken only by the distant buzz and chatter of the baby teeth.

"So," Tooth said, once they were both on their second cups. "What do you remember?"

**_"The name Overland."_** It was a smaller piece of memory than he normally got, but he had a feeling it was important. **_"Combine that with my age... I couldn't have been older than twenty, at the_ most _, when I became a spirit."_** However that had happened. He could remember nearly everything of his time as Jack Frost, now, all the way back to first waking up under the water. He had a suspicion, thanks to that, but he couldn't confirm anything without remembering his human life.

"And you said earlier you recognized the area Burgess is in now..." Tooth nodded. "It's not much, but I should be able to find _something_. There can't have been too many boys your age in Burgess with the name Overland."

Jack decided not to mention that he'd only remembered the _name_ , not that he remembered it belonging _to him_. Either she would find something or she wouldn't, and until then he would do his best to remember other things.

"And there was a second reason?" she asked, once she'd finished detailing her plans to Sunjay.

**_"Mm, yes. Have you any books on traditional architecture?"_** Jack let his lips twist sideways in a wry smile, though he was rather more certain he wanted to scowl, instead. **_"It has been made clear to me that some people think I live in a dump. I would like to prove them otherwise."_**

"In a- your home is _lovely_ , Jack." Tooth did not so much as blush at the lie, and patted his arm with one hand. "I won't deny that it's somewhat forbidding, but-"

**_"But it looks like I took slabs of ice and shoved them into more or less the right places,"_** Jack interrupted her. **_"It will be much easier for me to redesign than you'd think. I simply haven't any worthwhile books in my library; it seems to be the one subject I neglected to read about."_**

"Oh, you have a library?" Tooth looked enchanted by the idea. "You have to show me some day! Don't do a thing to it!"

**_"I shall leave my library alone,"_** he lied. It was long past time he reorganized his books, anyways. **_"But- have you anything I might use? I hesitate to go to North."_**

"Oh, Jack, North has plenty of architectural experience. All personal, I'll admit..." Tooth tilted her head to the side, doubtless considering her mental catalogue of books.

**_"North's workshop is a sprawling nightmare of addition upon addition,"_** Jack said, grinning. Three small fairies promptly tried to mob his teeth. He brushed them gently away, and did his best to ignore the admiration.

"You might have a point," she allowed. "You stay here, enjoy the tea. I think I have just the thing..."

Jack smiled wryly, and sat back in his chair. As if waiting for Tooth was anything but a pleasure. This room alone had several hanging baskets of flowering plants, each one a sample of showy, heavily scented blossoms. There was the drone of bees, blending nicely with the sound of thousands of baby teeth going about their duties. The tea was sweet upon his tongue, and if he had nothing but his own thoughts to entertain him, well, he was used to that.

Tooth did not leave him waiting very long. She flew back with two books; when she gave them to him, he saw that one was on notable castles through history, covering several different cultures, and the other was on traditional European- star fortresses? Interesting. Of course he'd known about such things as Jack Frost, but he'd paid them no mind when he'd flown over them. And of course he could have gone to look at actual castles and fortresses, but it would not have given him the proper references for adjusting his own fortress.

**_"Thank you, Tooth,"_** he said. **_"I shall try to have these back to you in short order."_**

"Oh, don't worry about it. Why don't I come over for a visit in a few days? I should have found your tooth box by then." He pretended not to hear her muttered "or several possibilities" as he doubted he'd been supposed to.

**_"Very well, I shall see you then."_** Jack stood up, books held in one hand. **_"I imagine you will like the changes I will make."_**

"Oh!" She hugged his arm. "I can't wait!"

Before he made any changes, Jack first read through the two books, and then began designing what his fortress would become. He took elements from both books- the layout of a basic, five pointed star fort, rather like the historical Fort Bourtange, from the old world Netherlands. It would take up rather more space than his current fortress did, but that was not necessarily a bad thing. The unique moat system- he would have to use salt water, so it did not freeze, and wouldn't the humans have a hard time explaining _that_! He couldn't wait- enclosed space enough for a small village, as well, and while he certainly wasn't about to fill it with inhabitants, he was rather enamored of the idea of setting up a replica village as well, complete with village square, public well, and a cluster of houses.

Inside the fort would be more replicas, such as stately manor homes, a stable, and even a mews Katya jokingly requested for her other bodies, when she wasn't using them.

His fortress, though, would be inspired more by classic Japanese architecture, the hirajiro style of the plains castles. Yet there were enough classic elements inspired by European castles- and after he checked through his library, some from fantasy castles, thanks to the images in some story books.

After a certain point, there was little more he could do by planning. Now it was time to work.

He sent Katya and Loptr to the Guardians, requesting that they hold off on their visits as he was working on a project, and could not afford to be interrupted. His creations brought back well wishes and Tooth's request that he notify her the moment she could come visit. She had found a tooth box, and believed it to be his.

Jack wavered, but in the end decided to finish his restructuring of the fortress rather than see about getting his human memories back. The one could wait, and the other- well, the other was long overdue, now that he thought about it.

**_"Alright,"_** he growled, looking down at the plans. **_"Katya, Loptr, tell me if I have forgotten anything."_**

His two creations studied the plans over his shoulders. "Not that I can see," Katya said. Loptr murmured his agreement. "But one thing, my lord- where will you store your belongings, the globe?"

**_"Here,"_** he said, and gestured at a crudely drawn map. The glacier depicted had several chambers big enough to fit, not only the globe and the floor it was bespelled to circle, but the contents of his library and media room. **_"You will guard it, and watch the globe. Should you see anything, notify me."_**

"How long is this likely to take?" Loptr asked.

**_"The last time I created my fortress, it took a month."_** Jack considered that memory, and huffed. **_"I have greater skill and control, now. Perhaps half that time to finish the structure."_**

Actually moving his belongings took some time- a full day, by the globe's rotation, though it was impossible to tell by the sky above. Jack transported the globe first, sliding the entire floor of his throne room right through the fortress and outside. Had there been anyone to see him, it would have been an odd sight- but not quite as odd as what followed, as he transported his books- and bookshelves, the wood had been difficult for him to get- and the contents of his media room in a similar manner.

Once everything was stored away, with his creations to guard them, Jack returned to the sight of his fortress- and leveled it completely.

The fortress itself collapsed and all but melted away, leaving behind a pile of snow and shards of ice. The walls took a little more effort, before they fell inwards with crashes that shook the very ground beneath his hooves.

That done, Jack turned his attention to the land, flattening it and digging out the moat. The moat was a complicated design, being that of one star around the fortress walls, and then a second and a third star offset to that to enclose the village replica, and then a final moat around the whole, outlining it all. Very fancy. One might even say... artistic.

Jack shoved the thought away, and called upon the wind to lift him up so he could view the design from above.

It looked good. When he landed, he turned his attention to forming the walls. Once they were in place- he amused himself by making the ice form with a brick pattern, each 'block' several feet tall, the entire thing twenty feet in height with a walkway up at the top for 'soldiers' and 'lookouts', along with several towers at the inner points- he turned towards the coastline and began the long and difficult process of bringing sea water to his moat.

In effect, he created moving depressions in the ice that started at the coast getting several hundred gallons of water at a time, and then moving slowly towards the center of Antarctica's ice-locked landmass. It took time, although he had two dozen of the bowls moving along in a row, so while he waited he finished off the appearance of the fortress walls, and added a portcullis and drawbridge for 'guests'. The multitasking was difficult, but he was using his staff to work. It helped.

Once the water arrived, he concentrated on getting the moat filled. He had managed to capture some of the sea _life_ as well, but he didn't mind. He would just have to keep an eye on the fish, to make sure everything was staying healthy.

The moat, and the fish inside, would no doubt confuse any humans who saw them. He had to pause, just to chuckle over their imagined reactions.

Once the moat was filled, he turned his intention to the interior of the walls. Creating the replica village was easy enough, even with the level of detail he put in it. For some reason, despite not remembering such a village very clearly, he knew the intimate details of such working class buildings. Apart from being made of ice, each building was complete down to the last 'straw' in the thatch.

He continued further inward, amusing himself with the 'shops' mixed with a higher class of 'house', and then framing out the manor houses he would complete later. Or not; it wasn't as though they would ever be _used_ , after all.

Well, perhaps if he completed his fortress- or perhaps the correct word for _this_ building was castle- in good time, he would go back and complete the manor houses.

It occurred to him that he was, in effect, making an entire town along with redesigning his fortress. Well, what of it? It was his decision, was it not?

Jack huffed, and concentrated on his castle.

Once he had the basic frame- the walls, floors, and roof was all in place- he turned his attention back to the manor houses, just for a change of pace. When he finished the manor houses, he turned back to the castle. Finishing the exterior took little more than a single day, and when he was done he did not think he was flattering himself by saying it was just as impressive and intimidating as the old fortress, but was now beautiful besides.

He created several ice replicas of trees and bushes for the 'gardens', just because he could, and then continued the effect through along the manor houses and down to the village.

The entire project had taken something like ten days, if he was measuring the passing time correctly. Much faster than the first time he had created his fortress. In all honesty, he was surprised at how smoothly everything had gone, but the century of practice had clearly done him good.

Jack wiped his forehead off on an equally sweaty forearm, and went in to work on the interior.

Unlike with his first fortress, this time he put in the effort to detail each room, though the furnishings were mostly made out of ice. After some thought, he resolved to find a way to put in wooden floors, though for the interim he used his magic to tint the ice- textured to look like wood- a pale gold color. That would do for now.

The only rooms he left unfinished, for the moment, was the throne room, the room he set aside as the library, and the media room. Everything else, from the unnecessary bedrooms to the equally unnecessary kitchen, was completed first.

Once he was finished with that, then he brought in his library and media room, seeing them placed properly. He eyed his bookshelves, before shaking his head. He would reorganize his library after he had recovered from _this_ effort.

Then he moved in his throne room.

Of all the rooms in his new fortress, the throne room was almost dismally empty. Even when he recreated his throne- which looked almost barbaric in design, compared to what he'd done now- it appeared empty.

**_"Oh, very well,"_** he growled, and got the potted plants from the library. He created four niches for them, and in a fit of whimsy ensured the niches were exactly at perfect north-west, north-east, south-west, and south-east- or where such positions would be if a compass pointed anything but 'north' here.

The plants would not be staying, he resolved. Once he had completely finished everything, he would send Katya to contact Aster. Better to get it over with.

Jack turned his attention to his throne. Compared to everything else that he had done, changing its appearance was almost as easy as breathing. He softened the lines, smoothed it down so it didn't look as though he'd simply stacked slabs of ice in the appropriate shape, and then carved 'vines' and 'blossoms' into the surface, everywhere but where he sat.

**_"There,"_** he said, and stood back. **_"What do you think?"_**

"I think it looks very impressive," was Loptr's opinion.

"And now you need a bath," Katya added. "Shall I fetch Aster now, or after you've rolled in the snow?"

**_"Now,"_** Jack decided. A bath? He didn't sweat anymore, he didn't need a bath...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Pitch, flowers, reconstruction... Oh and next chapter things happen. And I finished writing a chapter that made me cry. Chapter 35. I'm counting down the weeks.
> 
> Also, Jack's new layout is something like [this](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6c/Fortbourtange.jpg), Fortbourtange. Only, you know, ice.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

"What's all this?" Aster brushed absently at his coat sleeve, and studied the changed hallway.

Before it had been little better than a tunnel through the ice, roughly squared off, lit intermittently by the eerie, glowing icicles. Now it was a proper hallway, with the ice carved to look as though it were stone blocks and wooden planks, and there was even thinner ice that looked like paper screens. The lighting was still glowing ice, but now in the shape of old fashioned lanterns, the oil-filled kind. The light even flickered the way a flame would.

Some of the ice was colored, everything from the gold of the floor, which looked almost like real wood, to the pale ivory of the 'screens'. He peered closely at one faux panel, which had been 'carved' with what looked like climbing roses.

Katya sighed. "My lord decided your gifts of flowers were a statement he had to answer." She almost, but not quite, glared at him. "While I will say the old fortress was somewhat drab, I do not believe it was necessary to go to this extent."

There were a lot of carved roses in the design. "What's- it's more than just the hallway, isn't it?"

It wasn't possible to smile with a beak, but the ice phoenix did the next best thing. "Ask him for the tour, if you remember where you left your tongue."

What?

Katya flew ahead of him, guide instead of guard. Sadly, he needed one. The changes left him feeling lost, and the floor plan had apparently shifted and gotten more complicated.

The doors were all sliding things, made to look like Japanese rice paper screens. It somehow wasn't jarring, with the European touch to the solid walls or the ceilings some fifteen feet up off the floor. It all harmonized, in the end.

Then he entered the throne room.

It looked like a more polished version of the old room, with the globe, the stalagmite, the throne- more roses, he saw- and nothing else. There were four new alcoves, for the rose vines he'd perfected, and that was it.

Oh, and Jack was there too.

Aster's breath caught in his throat. Something as strong as lust and brighter, more pure, flowed through his veins. He wanted the vision of sweaty muscles and tousled hair, but more, he wanted after, too. He wanted to watch Jack sleep, to reach over and touch Jack's hand, to lean to the side and rest against the Ice Lord.

Oh, hell. He wanted what his parents' had had.

He'd always believed that his parents hadn't loved each other- they'd _lived_ each other. If they hadn't been two halves of one soul, it'd been because they were two halves of an archway, supporting each other effortlessly. Growing up it'd been the ideal, impossible though it'd been for him.

And now... Now there was Jack, who was smiling faintly at him, apparently unaware of the drops of sweat that rolled down the side of his neck, or the way his abs glistened faintly with moisture.

"So this is what you've been up to," he said, and clasped his hands behind his back. Jack wouldn't appreciate sexual assault, which was what it'd be if Aster wrapped his arms around that thick waist and started licking at that stomach. And lower.

Jack all but grinned, bright and innocent and it made something, some tangle of emotion, uncurl in Aster's stomach. Oh, he wanted to see that expression so much more. He wanted to press his fingers to the curve of Jack's lips, taste that smile, swallow it down and bring it back again and again.

Then Jack sobered. **_"Kangaroo, what did you do?"_**

"What did I...?"

**_"These plants."_** He gestured at the rose vines. **_"They seem to thrive in the cold."_**

Oh, right, that. Aster smiled. "They're supposed to. Y'see, I took-"

**_"You must get rid of them."_** Jack folded his arms, which- might have derailed Aster's train of thought. Briefly. **_"Mother Nature will be displeased."_**

"Get rid of- oh, hell no! You can just knock that one off, ya bloody show pony!" Aster clenched his teeth. No. Not after he'd put so much effort into creating flowers that'd not only survive but _thrive_ in Jack's home conditions. "And what's little Seraphina got to do with anything? She's got nothing to do with this!"

Jack wasn't involved with Seraphina. He wasn't. He'd have _mentioned_ it.

**_"You think she won't be upset at your edging in on her territory? She cannot_ ** **stand _it when I change a storm-!"_**

Oh. Aster stepped forward, and rested one hand on Jack's still folded arms. "Mate? She won't bother me. And if she tries to bother you over them... Over anything. You tell me. She's not so old I can't pull her over my lap and tan her backside, still."

Jack frowned at him, something that was too wary to be hope in his eyes. **_"She is not how you remember."_**

No one ever was. "I know."

He sighed, and let his arms drop to his sides. **_"But if you think you can handle her..."_**

"I'm not going to let her dictate what gifts I can give," he said, moving even closer. Jack smelt like melt water dripping off pine branches, with a hint of salt. He wondered what the Ice Lord's sweat tasted like.

**_"Gifts..."_** For some reason, Jack blushed at that, frost curling across his cheek bones. **_"I have never gotten you anything. Why do you...?"_**

"Gifts aren't given in the expectation of getting something in return," he said softly. He pressed his hand against Jack's chest, and leaned forward. "They're given to make people happy. I... I like seeing you happy."

**_"You do,"_** Jack murmured, and bent his head. Aster's pulse picked up. Jack's hands rested on his hips. And the Ice Lord's face got ever closer to his, Jack's eyes hooded but focused on the Pooka, gaze lazy but intent. Aster lifted his head a touch, and-

"My lord?"

Jack froze, and the sound he made was indescribable, other than 'cranky'. **_"_ Yes _, Loptr?"_**

The ice wyrm looked undisturbed. "I realize this is a bad time, but something strange has happened over the southern ocean. Near the Indian Ocean. It seems important."

Jack huffed, and straightened up. He looked back down at Aster, fingers flexing on the Pooka's hips. **_"This conversation isn't finished."_**

"Not on your nellie." Not after they'd come so close-! "I'll see you tomorrow. No interruptions than. This is _important_."

**_"So it is."_** Jack let go, and stepped away. **_"Katya will show you out."_**

Yeah, he needed the help. He looked forward to relearning the fortress' layout.

Aster sighed, and tucked his hands in his coat pockets. Maybe he'd visit Sandy, see if he'd be willing to listen to an old, lovestruck Pooka's ramblings.

Tooth studied the tooth box as she flew; she was currently over the open ocean, too low to worry about airplanes and too high for boats. Nothing to fly into, so as long as she kept going straight- she glanced up every so often to make sure of it- she could look at the tooth box all she wanted.

The Sanskrit writing marked 'Jackson Overland' to have been born March 27, 1694 and to have died on March 25, 1712. Only two days from his eighteenth birthday. It was sad, but she had lived a long time, and had seen many people, a lot of them young, die. Besides, if Jack Frost really was Jackson Overland, he hadn't so much died as... Well. Such a violent transition to spirit-hood was unusual, but not unheard of, and the spirits _were_ alive afterwards. Even if they sometimes left bodies behind for the mortals to bury and mourn over.

Little Sunjay had been the one to find the box. Tooth had checked, and double-checked, to make sure there wasn't anyone else born to the right name and timeframe in the Burgess area, but she needn't have worried. The only other boys with the Overland name, in Burgess, in that area, had died even younger than Jackson had; the next oldest, possibly one of his brothers, had been ten when he'd passed away.

And after Jackson's death, there weren't any more Overland boys.

She hoped this was Jack's tooth box. If it was, it meant his long, long wait was over. Tooth did this as a matter of course for spirits- when she knew about them.

Why hadn't she known? There wasn't any reason for Jack to have known- not at first, though surely _someone_ would have told him...? Wouldn't they? Oh, he'd mentioned how he'd spent his first three centuries alone, or verbally, sometimes physically attacked, but there must have been times when he'd had civil, even friendly conversations!

Right?

Tooth shook her head, and studied the picture on the end of the box. A young boy, with brown hair and brown eyes. Ordinary, really. She wondered what he'd done to become a spirit. Nothing bad, she was sure. Jack wasn't a bad man. Memories or no, spirits stayed true to their human natures.

She looked up, and frowned. That was odd...

And then she screamed and ducked a spike of black sand. Damn it, of all the times to be without a weapon!

"Pitch!" Well, he couldn't stay quiet forever. Tooth hovered just long enough to catch sight of the Boogieman, riding a Nightmare, and then flew straight up.

She had to get away, that was the main thing. Get away and then warn the others.

Only, she quickly discovered, getting away was the hard part.

"Give up!" Pitch yelled. His Nightmares... Ooooh, where had he even _gotten_ this much sand? Sandy had turned all the corrupted dreamsand back into _his_ golden sand a century ago. It must have taken Pitch the full hundred years to get back to- to all this!

A Nightmare slammed into her, sending her tumbling. Tooth lost hold of the tooth box, and yelped. Jack's teeth! His memories!

No!

She flattened her wings and dove after the golden box.

Pitch got there first.

"No!" She flew after the mounted Boogieman. "Give that back!"

"Oh, this?" Pitch twisted around on the Nightmare, and held up the tooth box. He grinned, showing all of his snaggleteeth. "Very well... Catch."

He let go of the tooth box.

Tooth spun in midair, and managed to catch Jack's tooth box.

And that was when the Nightmares slammed into her.

If the day got any more boring, Phil was reasonably certain he would give the elves forbidden sugar, just to see what would happen.

Not that he approved of chaos, in and of itself. He preferred things remained in order, such as spring following winter; that the toys were painted- or programmed, as time marched on; that the elves remained in control and the yeti were never required to put in unseasonal overtime. He disliked the histrionics that came with last minute changes and demands. His fur was put on end when production was slowed- or worse, stopped!- only days before Christmas. When a child went from the Nice list to the Naughty, or Naughty to Nice, he pulled hard enough at his mane he generally ended up in bald spots.

But he got uneasy when things went too smoothly. No, what made him happiest was when everything was going along well, but with _just_ a few bumps and hitches to make him appreciate how well everything else was going.

The elves usually served as appropriate bumps, getting underfoot as they did. Yet when they went through periods of good behavior...

His Maria laughed at his fretting. She thought it was endearing. Perhaps, to her, it was. She was the perfect wife for him, never taking anything too seriously, not even his 'grumps' as she called them. Marrying her was the best thing he had ever done, no question.

At the moment... Phil sighed, and looked down at his clipboard. It was foolish to complain about not having things to complain about. It was even more foolish to go wandering about little used hallways and dank, old storerooms, as though looking for a sneak that wasn't going to show up.

Jack Frost hadn't been seen in over a century now.

Oh, North called the Ice Lord 'Jack', but Phil couldn't see it. Jack Frost had been a laughing slip of ice and wind, small enough for Phil to wrap one arm around the boy's waist with room to spare, light enough a child could have carried him. And had; Phil had just started working for North when Jack had tried to break in the first time. Thwarting Jack's efforts had been the most 'play' the serious yeti had ever indulged in.

He wondered if Jack had ever known that.

Probably not, and he regretted that.

Phil sighed again, and peered into a room that had, once, served as a repository for broken, wooden toys. Nothing there of course, just a few grains of black sand on the floor.

He'd gotten several feet down the hallway before he paused. Black sand?

Phil hurried back, but when he looked in the room, the sand was gone.

It could have been nothing, but...

He turned and hurried down the hall, on the path to North's office.

Classical music was playing loudly behind the closed door, something about large, human women in horned helmets, if Phil understood correctly. Not that it meant anything; North often left his music playing when he stepped out. The yeti stood outside the door, knocked twice, and then slammed the door open.

It wasn't his fault North couldn't hear the knocking over the blare of his opera.

The office was empty, but the window was open. Phil hurried over, and looked out.

He _thought_ he heard North, distantly, swearing by Russian composers as was his wont. Just as he thought he saw a dark shadow flying overhead, too far away for him to make out clearly.

Stars and stones! If that was what he thought it was...

Phil hurried back out, and up to the controls for the emergency beacon. He got the stray odd look, but that was _nothing_ to the way everyone turned and _stared_ at him as he activated the beacon.

He didn't care. Either this was a false alarm...

... Or something very bad had just happened.

Sandy grinned at Aster, and patted one furry shoulder. Silly man. But then, most young things were very silly.

Especially when it came to matters of the heart. Wishing Stars were much simpler about things. Granted, Wishing Stars didn't have a procreative impulse, the way younger species did, but they did desire companionship, even romance at times. Though never with short-lived and transitory beings, that just got too painful, too quickly. Watching someone, or something, that was beloved, fade away in die in what felt like an eye blink...

No. Never again.

He sighed, unnoticed by the Pooka, which was as it should be, really. Sandy's old troubles weren't for love struck ears, or any other ears for that matter. He turned his attention back to Aster, who was finally winding down.

"Sorry to yack your ear off, mate," Aster mumbled, and looked away. "Guess I just needed to get that off my chest."

'That' being an aborted step closer towards Aster's hoped-for furthering of his romance, if Sandy understood correctly. The romantic dance was not one he understood, beyond the most technical details.

He patted Aster's shoulders again, and formed the shapes that meant 'cheer up'. After all, clearly Jack was fond of Aster, at the very least. Surely fondness grew into love?

"Yeah, yeah. I know. And we'll be talking tomorrow. And- Sandy, you _have_ to see his new place!" Aster flopped backward on the sand, apparently forgetting all his complaints about the beach. Sandy understood how annoying sand could be in fur, and he frowned a little at the way Aster's shoulders dug into the grainy surface. Oh, he'd be hearing about that next...

He patiently formed the shapes for 'what about Jack's new fortress' several times, until Aster both saw and understood.

Silly, young Pooka.

"I think he redesigned the whole bloody place! It looks a beaut, from what I saw of it- and he kept the flowers I made him, too!" Aster sighed. "Can't believe he was worried how Seraphina would take them, of all things. So what if they're roses meant for winter? Didn't do anything natural selection wouldn't, just sped it up a touch. Or two."

He laughed silently to himself. Oh, the things a determined Pooka would do for love. And _this_ Pooka had always been his favorite, even when there had been others to compare him to.

The romance between Aster and Jack Frost was a sweet one, but Sandy would be quite happy when the courtship dancing was over and they moved on to a permanent partnership. Perhaps there would be less fretting when that happened.

He formed and sent off a dream, while behind him Aster talked all about how he had created the winter roses, and how the finished product looked in the Ice Lord's throne. Sandy made a mental note to visit the fortress so he could see for himself; it sounded lovely.

He looked up, quite by chance, and frowned at the sparkles and shimmer of the emergency beacon. He poked Aster with a tendril of sand, and then pointed up at the aurora.

"What now?" Aster huffed. "That North! Guess we'd better see what he's panicking over this time."

Last time had involved Jack Frost- or the Ice Lord, as they had known him. Sandy nodded, and prepared a cloud of sand. He turned to Aster, eyebrows raised, to invite him onto the cloud.

It was the only reason he caught sight of their attacker.

Sandy lashed out with a whip, which was all the warning Aster needed. Young as the Pooka was, he was a warrior through and through, and though he hadn't come with many weapons, he was wearing his old armor.

The bladed arm guards cut through the first vines, and Sandy managed to bind up the rest. Briefly. But numbers told in the end, as they always did.

A vine wrapped around Aster's arm, pulling him off balance. The rest followed, and all the cutting and biting in the world wouldn't free him from them.

Sandy continued to bind the vines, but too late realized they were a distraction. He looked down at the feeling of something crawling _through_ his legs, and gasped.

Roots.

They anchored him in place, extending further and further up his body. He brought his sand down on them, but it didn't help- they crawled into the whips, too. He struggled but only the thinnest tendrils snapped. The thicker ones held firm, and used the motion to spread further.

The vines had wrapped entirely around Aster's body, squeezing tight. The Pooka appeared unconscious.

The roots continued up through Sandy's body, down his arms and into his head.

Alas, he didn't fall unconscious, though he dearly wished for such an escape.

So it was that he saw their captor step forward out of shadows that had never been there, and smile.

_ "Won't this be just perfect..." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~And it's so easy when you're evil... This is the life you see, the Devil tips his hat to~- Oh, hi! -fanged grin- Now, instead of talking about the chapter- because spoilers, my lovelies, spoilers!
> 
> Argh I'm almost done the original story argh panic I hate endings!


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

Jack looked up from his book, and frowned at the globe. **_"Why does it look like something out of Mardi Gras?"_**

"Mardi what?" Loptr asked.

He ignored the ice wyrm, and looked closer at the globe. If he didn't know any better, he would have said a miniature aurora borealis was rippling across the surface. But that was impossible; an aurora was a natural event, and being neither magical nor weather related didn't show up. Unless...

He turned to the table, and gestured a second time. North's Workshop appeared, and in the sky above...

Jack swore blasphemously, and carefully set the book aside. **_"Watch the globe,"_** he growled at Loptr. **_"Katya, should something occur, notify me. This will either take very little time at all, or- never mind."_** He turned and strode out of the throne room before his creations could stammer their understanding and agreement.

He had been told of the aurora. All of the Guardians had their access to it, though strangely enough the separate controls all activated the beacon at the North Pole. Aster liked to complain that North was 'trigger happy' with it, though from what Jack understood it had only been used twice in the past century. For it to be used now... It was only activated for matters of great urgency.

What had happened?

He reached for the North Pole's ice, and with a mental wrench transported himself, between one step and the next, to the Workshop's front door. He pounded on it, then, when no one opened the door immediately, he tore it off its hinges.

**_"Sorry,"_** he growled, at the nearest surprised yeti. **_"But I have no time to waste. Where is North?"_**

The yeti stammered something, but it was mere gibberish to Jack. He growled wordlessly, loud enough to drown the yeti out, and propped the door up against one wall. **_"Well?"_** he demanded, loud enough to be heard over much of the ambient noise.

Another yeti, this one vaguely familiar in appearance, hurried towards Jack. He looked _relieved_ , of all things, and made urgent gestures towards North's globe.

Jack scowled, but consented to follow the yeti. As he walked, he racked his brain, trying to figure out why he appeared so familiar. After a minute, he remembered. **_"Phil,"_** he said. **_"You_ are _bringing me to North, aren't you?"_**

Phil looked back over his shoulder, and gestured up at the globe again, with another spurt of gibberish. Jack refrained from sighing.

When they reached the globe, Jack didn't see North. All he saw was the device he suspected activated the aurora, turned to the 'on' position. He absently reached over and turned it off. **_"Well?"_** he growled, and gestured with both hands at the space around them. **_"Where_ is _he?"_**

Phil shook his head, and proceeded to bombard Jack with yeti gibberish. He continued after two warning growls, and subsided only after Jack roared wordlessly at him.

**_"I don't speak your language! Find some other way to communicate!"_ **

The yeti looked sadly at him, and then down at his hands. Jack felt some of his irritation- not all of it, but some- fade away. **_"Perhaps a large marker, or a paint brush?"_** he suggested. **_"I can read Russian, though I cannot speak it."_**

At that, Phil brightened somewhat, and he nodded. Jack stayed by the large, light-spangled globe while the yeti hurried off. He didn't have to wait long; Phil returned with what looked like an old fashioned writing set, with a brush instead of a quill or pen. The yeti managed to turn what should have been graceful lettering into something very like blocky handwriting, but it was legible and that was what mattered.

_North has been stolen_ , he read. _By a dark shape. Black sand discovered in back hallway just prior. I suspect Pitch. Signaled the other Guardians, but they have not shown up. Only you._

The sound he made was as much like a growl as a gentle breeze was like a hurricane. **_"Pitch?"_** he asked, once he was able to form words again. **_"Pitch Black?"_**

Phil eyed him warily, and nodded.

Jack took a deep breath, and then another. And another. Pitch Black had kidnapped North. Why?

... And what else had he done?

**_"And the other Guardians have not appeared?"_** he asked.

Phil shook his head in the negative.

Jack drummed his fingers against the railing. For some reason that seemed to make the yeti nervous. **_"How long has the aurora been activated?"_** It would have taken a little time before it showed up on his globe. At some point he'd have to work on that.

_Fifteen minutes,_ Phil wrote.

**_"And how long do the others generally take before getting here?"_ **

Phil paused, and tapped the wooden end of the brush against his cheek, before writing out, _varies_. After a moment's pause, he added, _depends on distance from pole. Anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour._

**_"Then we will wait another forty-five minutes,"_** Jack growled, **_"before assuming anything has happened to the others in addition to North's being taken."_** He interpreted the yeti's look well enough. **_"If the others have not been taken, then their assistance will be invaluable. If they have been taken, as we can assume if they do not show in forty-five minutes, then the matter is worse than initially thought._**

**_"Turn the aurora back on."_ **

Once the aurora was snapped back on, Jack folded his arms, bowed his head, and waited. He sensed the yeti around him, their nervousness an almost physical feeling in the air, but ignored it. Phil remained beside him, much like a rock, unmoved by the tense atmosphere.

_This_ was why he wasn't supposed to get involved with people, Jack thought. It was all well and good when nothing went wrong, but the moment something _did_ \- it was hard, hard, not to let his emotions feed the clouds above the pole, and turn the clear skies into a raging storm. Better to be lonely than suffer the pain of loss and fear.

And yet... Now that he _had_ friends...

If anything had happened to them...

He realized he was growling again, but it was a distant concern, next to the seconds and minutes slipping away. First a handful, and then two, and then he distracted himself by thinking just how he would track Pitch down and tear out the would-be king's _spine_.

Phil made a sound rather like clearing one's throat, if said noise was meant to be a word. **_"Yes,"_** Jack said in reply. **_"It's past forty-five minutes."_**

And the others had not arrived.

Tooth. Sandy. Aster. With North; there was no reason to assume there would be a second opponent at this time. So Pitch had captured the Guardians. Why? What was his plan this time?

Jack turned and stared at the globe, but it was not _his_ globe and so only slightly better than useless. North never had gotten around to changing the spells on the damn thing. It was impossible to use it to judge what was happening in the real world, as it happened. No, it only showed where believers were, of all the useless things.

**_"I need to look at my globe,"_** he said, and spun on one hoof so suddenly, Phil yelped in surprise.

The yeti hurried after him. Jack eyed him, and mentally shrugged. **_"I will be able to search more effectively with my own resources. Keep everything in order here; once I have found the Guardians and rescued them, I will bring everyone back to the personal quarters for recovery."_**

Phil nodded, and turned to one of the yeti nearby. They began conversing, Phil spitting out orders in gibberish, and being answered with gibberish.

Jack hurried towards the doors. The one he'd torn off its hinges had been repaired, and a yeti scurried to open the door before he reached it. Guilt tried to stir, but he shoved it down. He had done nothing wrong. And clearly, he had been right to be... concerned.

The instant his hooves touched snow, he concentrated, and gave the mental twist that sent him from the North Pole to the South in an instant. He staggered, as the open ice plains became, in less than an eye blink, his new hallway and the door to his throne room. Jack gestured the door out of the way, and strode across the floor to his globe.

"My lord?" Katya asked. He growled, and she fell silent.

Where? He looked the globe over, and then spread his magic across the surface. The aurora was still turned on, it seemed; he could feel the faint, fluttering touch against his own magic, like cobwebs on his skin. He acknowledged the sensation, and then ignored it, removing it from his awareness.

Nothing. Not a single magical signature, not even that of other winter spirits. The globe might as well have been a dead rock for all he felt from it!

Jack snarled, and lifted one fist. He stopped himself just before putting his hand through the side of the globe. No. He _needed_ it. He created a ball of ice and threw it at the nearest wall instead.

Then he turned back to the globe and concentrated harder, sent his focus further in. He _had_ to sense Pitch's magic. It was there, somewhere.

He just had to find it.

_Look for the small things_ , he told himself. Pitch's power worked best at subtle levels. Pitch's version of fear was an insidious, creeping thing. It crept up on a person, snuck in through the cracks, and built slowly as it strangled mind and soul.

Fear. He had to look for fear.

Jack reached deep inside himself, and found the part of him that was the Ice Lord; cold, remote, devoted to duty over all else. He drew that part forward, until it forced aside his emotions, the rage and the fear and the senseless _guilt_ interfering with his search.

Jack Frost could not find Pitch Black. Jack Frost could not save his friends.

The Ice Lord could.

So it was the Ice Lord that opened his eyes. It was the Ice Lord that focused in on the globe, and spread his awareness out over the surface. It was the Ice Lord that touched each black-light spark of fear, determining who it belonged to and dismissing it when it wasn't Pitch's magic.

Much of the fear belonged to his subjects. It made the corners of his lips curl upwards in sardonic amusement. They surely sensed his emotions, as trees sensed a coming storm. No wonder they had been so quiet. No doubt they wished to avoid his wrath. He would allow it.

**_"There,"_** he breathed, and studied the globe. Dominica, the Morne Trois Pitons National Park. **_"Boiling Lake?"_** he said, and grinned at the thought. **_"Do you think that will help you, Pitch Black?"_**

He turned and faced his creations. They cowered, as well they might. **_"Stay here,"_** he ordered them, some small part of himself still concerned for their lives.

A moment's concentration brought his staff to him, transporting it through the ice and snow of his fortress to his hand. Another moment and he heard the wind begin to howl around the corners of his palace.

If Pitch Black desired a confrontation, then so be it.

The Ice Lord would be pleased to indulge him.

Aster glowered at Seraphina. "Ya know, darlin', if you were that put out about my roses you could've just _said_ so."

Mother Nature glowered at him, hovering carefully level with the cages. _"You had no right,"_ she hissed. _"None at all, and I will be pleased to speak with you about the matter at length, later. But for the moment, there are more important matters to deal with, so you will_ hold your tongue _."_

"Or I'll cut it off," Pitch added. He looked entirely too gleeful, but then- Aster couldn't help but glance downwards, and gulp- he _could_ sense fear.

And Aster was terrified of heights.

"Sera, please," Tooth said. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"There is no _reason_ for this," North added.

Seraphina grinned at them, eyes glowing. _"No? No reason? We shall see."_

Aster looked over at Sandy, instead of down at the gigantic lake of boiling water some hundred feet below. The former Wishing Star looked... drained, and more than half covered by what looked like _bean plants_. Insult adding to injury, he supposed. Bad enough to be taken out by mere plants, but beans? It was one way to subdue a man made out of sand, he supposed, but Aster couldn't imagine the agony that must've come from having hundreds upon thousands of plant roots twined through one's substance. Anyone else would have been screaming, or unconscious, but by his nature neither were options for Sandy.

"Seraphina, please. Have you been listening to Pitch? Did he put you up to this?" Tooth leaned forward, and set her cage to swaying. Aster had to swallow down his gorge at the sight, but she seemed oblivious. But then, she had wings.

"Me?" Pitch asked, one hand pressed to his chest and his eyes mockingly wide. "Convince her?"

_ "I asked Father to help me in this endeavor. It was I doing the persuading, not the other way around." _

"Why are you even doing this?" North asked. He too shifted, and his cage swung madly. He didn't seem to notice. "Surely we can talk this out!"

Seraphina flew towards North's cage, fast enough she startled her father's Nightmare. _"There will be no talk,"_ she said. _"Only an end to that wretched usurper, Jack Frost. He will come for you."_ She turned to face Aster, and grinned. _"Especially you."_

Could everyone see it? Aster looked away rather than respond.

The situation could hardly get any worse. The four of them were trapped in cages, captives of Seraphina and Pitch Black, of all people. The cages themselves were suspended from what looked like a trapeze artists' web of vines, and tree branches, and jutting stone towers leaning out over the famous Boiling Lake in the Dominican. The vines and tree branches were all living, so all Seraphina had to do was twitch a finger in order to control a single vine, or all of them. Or snap them; she'd already pointed that out, with a nasty little grin.

Where was the sweet child he'd helped escape to Earth? She'd been all knobby knees and elbows then, with glasses too big for her face and a charming innocence. This woman was made up of graceful lines and lush curves, didn't wear glasses, and if she had any innocence left, it was well hidden.

He chanced another look down, and swallowed hard. Very well hidden.

It wasn't bad enough he had to worry about hitting the water at terminal velocity. Oh no. He had to worry about boiling to death while he drowned, too!

_"You will thank me for this in time,_ kechara _,"_ Seraphina said, moving to hover in front of Aster's cage. He looked over her shoulder. _"You have deluded yourself into thinking Frost capable of returning your affections. I am simply sparing you the inevitable broken heart."_

She actually reached through the bars, to cup his cheek. He pulled away, though it made his cage sway and bob, and his stomach rebel.

Seraphina stared at him, expression unreadable. _"Fine,"_ she spat, and drew away. _"Cling to your delusions. You will see, soon enough. Frost will come for his_ possession _. Once you've seen, never fear. I'll kill him for you."_

Aster shook his head. "You've lost it, Sera," he said quietly. "Jack's not like that. He'll come for me- for us- and you won't know what's hit you when he does."

As if keyed by his voice, a cool breeze whispered through the net of vines and the hanging cages. Aster gasped; it felt colder than it should have, his having adjusted to the humidity over the lake.

The breeze strengthened and swirled, and the lake below seemed to generate mist faster than it could be blown away. Aster looked up and to the side, and words- indeed, _breathing_ \- failed him.

It was a storm.

But that was like saying a mountain was a 'big hill'.

The clouds spread from one end of the horizon to the other, and reached up an impossible distance. Lightning crackled from one near-black mass to the next, an eerie green shade he'd only seen before in thundersnow. The clouds were moving in fast- the breeze had turned into a strong wind, interfering with Seraphina's hover and making Pitch's Nightmare toss its head and fret.

Aster grabbed hold of the bars with one hand, and stared. The storm- it was insane. And-

A dull roaring, similar to an old fashioned jet engine, picked up at the edge of his hearing. Yet it increased in volume faster than the clouds were moving in. In less than a minute he could see the cause.

Jack.

He hated flying; claimed to look like an idiot. And Aster would be the first to say he wasn't graceful in the air, it was true, but...

El-Ahrairah's ears if his heart didn't skip a beat at the sight.

_"What?"_ Seraphina raised one hand, and her flight stabilized. _"So fast..."_

Pitch stared at the oncoming Ice Lord much like a deer stared at an oncoming truck. "That- you- that-"

"What?" Aster asked, sneering. "Didn't know Jack Frost's the Ice Lord?"

Judging by the color Pitch went, no, he hadn't.

Jack arrived seconds later, and _hovered_ in midair. Aster wasn't alone in gawking at the sight. He wasn't aware Jack _could_ hover. He flew on the wind, needed the strongest of air currents to pick him up. Yet there he was, holding in place, with the wind swirling about him. A strong wind, too; it shoved at the cages and vines, making them all sway, and down below the lake surface slapped the shore. There was even what looked like miniature dust devils, down in the mist.

**_"Seraphina,"_** he said, his voice as cold and controlled as ever Aster had heard it. He sounded like when they'd first been sent to talk with him. Jack's gaze slid sideways, and apparently it was possible for Pitch to go even paler. **_"Black."_**

The Nightmare reared, and bucked. Pitch hauled at the reins, but looked more than a touch wild eyed himself. Jack sneered at the antics, and turned his attention back to Seraphina.

**_"I will not ask why you are involved,"_** he said, voice a horrific combination of glacier grinding against glacier and enraged winter storm. **_"I will give you one chance to free them, safely."_**

_"I knew you would come,"_ Seraphina breathed. _"Meddler that you are."_

She flexed her fingers, and her nails lengthened into claws that would've done credit to any switchblade in America. _"You have interfered in my affairs for the last time, Jack Frost. I gave you mercy, and you spat in my face. No more. As I told_ kechara _, I will kill you, and they will see the truth."_

Aster looked desperately at Jack, who was... smiling?

**_"Dress up your intentions however you like, it changes nothing about your motivation. You want to kill me?"_** Thunder growled in punctuation, as Jack lifted his staff into a guard position. **_"By all means._ TRY _."_**

At that point, Aster realized something very important.

The fight wasn't between Seraphina and Jack Frost.

It was between Mother Nature and the Ice Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, guys, I'm so sorry for forgetting and updating so late! Forgive me, please forgive me!
> 
> Of course, the reason why I forgot... My original story, apart from the epilogue, is now done. It, um, yeah. Maybe. Just a little freaked out? Tiny bit? January 1st my mom wants to start sending out manuscripts to get me on the road to publication, so... Freaking out. A little. Hrngnnnnn...
> 
> Also-also, I'm currently working on chapter thirty-seven, and the story has hit 117k in words. And Events have Unfolded there, too... hee. Once Rose is done... Assassins!


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mother Nature shot forward, her winds roaring and swirling around her. The Ice Lord swayed to the side, letting her pass by without comment or attack. He gathered his own winds, and added a touch of his own power to them, surrounding himself with ice-blue sparkles carried on the air currents.

Mother Nature was carried several dozen feet past by her own momentum. She spun the instant she could, and glowered at him. He let his winds expand, press further out around his body. She answered by infusing her winds with her own power, so they became visible as whirling streamers of red, green, and gold.

Someone gasped. He imagined the Guardians were not used to seeing the Winds, only the effects.

_"Continue with your madness, and I shall destroy what you value,"_ Mother Nature called. _"Yield, and they will survive."_

It did not take a genius to know what she meant. The Guardians- Jack Frost's heart quivered and ached in his chest, terrified at the thought- were hung over the boiling lake. Their prisons were made of vines and living branches of the ironwood tree. She could drop them, cages and all, into the water- and unless he was very fast and very lucky, he would never catch them.

Seraphina would be quite pleased, if he was forced to watch his friends boil to death.

If it were only the fall, the Guardians would suffer broken bones or, at worst, internal injuries; things that could heal. They were spirits, they were quite durable when all was said and done.

But they could not breathe water. And they could not survive such temperatures as found in the lake.

Mother Nature raised one hand, her grin a twisted mirror of Pitch Black's.

The Ice Lord growled, but then Jack had an idea. He grinned suddenly, and all but laughed. **_"That is your great weapon, Seraphina? You cannot threaten anyone on your own, so you must act indirectly?"_**

He had no idea her eyes could flash red like that.

_"Very well,"_ she hissed, and pointed at Aster's cage.

He drew on Jack, on three centuries of knowledge, and infused the snowflake with the Ice Lord's power. He threw it down, carried faster than terminal velocity into the water by a thread of Wind, even as he swung his staff at the nearest vine.

Ice _exploded_ with the sound of a thousand shattering windows.

It tore across the vines, faster than even he could sense. It spread across the lake, shattering and reforming in an instant. It curled around the bars of each cage with delicate fingers of frost. It jutted up in spires and spikes from the frozen lake surface. Power poured from him, like blood from a severed vein.

The Guardians all swore in surprise. The only word he understood was Aster's; a very loud 'Crikey!' paired with a wide eyed, hungry stare at Jack.

The Ice Lord turned away from the hanging cages, and pointed the crook of his staff at Mother Nature. **_"You will not hurt them."_**

She howled wordlessly, and called fire down from the sky.

The Ice Lord batted it aside, and sent a swirl of snow-laden wind after, to put out the burning trees. Then he answered her with his own sky-fire, the thundersnow he'd brought with him.

The lightning was the same shade as Aster's eyes.

The Ice Lord shoved Jack's observation aside, and flew forward at half-speed at Mother Nature. She shook her head, dazzled by the blow if not blinded, and reacted a second too slow to avoid his attack.

He didn't hit her. She would expect that much. He simply sped up, charging past, and let the wake of his Winds throw her to the side. It was almost as powerful a blow as a punch would be, and with very little effort on his part.

He had to husband his strength as much as possible. Physically, he was the stronger; a Jotun might match him in a wrestling match, but few others. Magically... He was ice and snow and the winter wind. She was fire, and the earth, and the air. She had wells of strength he could not match on his best day. Even with seventeen believers feeding him strength directly, it was not enough.

Seraphina shrieked and righted herself out of her tumble. _"Father!"_

Father?

Hooves came down on his shoulders.

The Ice Lord roared and let himself drop two dozen feet before shooting back up and to the side. Pitch followed, a sword of black sand in one hand, reins in the other.

**_"Are you so eager to face me again?"_** Jack growled, and sent a blast of wind, edged in ice, at the Boogieman. **_"I still have my dungeon!"_**

Pitch flinched back, all the opening Jack needed. He flew forward, bowling the Nightmare over onto its side from sheer force and weight, and grabbed Pitch by the throat. His fingers closed all the way around the man's neck. It made for a good handhold, to whip the Nightmare King up and then down, flinging him straight at the frozen lake below.

The Nightmare screamed, and dissipated into falling sand the instant he swung his staff through it. It did not reform.

Fire wrapped around him. It was as much magical as physical, and it ate at his stores of energy just as it struggled to char his skin. Never before had he been so thankful for his transformation. If he had been Jack Frost, the attack would have killed him in an instant.

But the Ice Lord's hide was tough, and he brought his winds up around him in a sphere, ever spinning, and flung the fire away. It almost wasn't fast enough.

Almost.

Mother Nature flew all but directly into his fist. For a full minute Jack kept the fight mostly physical, but for the flying. She wilted beneath his fists, though she was old enough to have forgotten more about fighting than humanity had come up with. Something about being hit by a five hundred pound brute did rattle the brain, though.

His assault ended rather abruptly when she caught his wrist in both hands, twisted, and flung him down at the cliff.

The Ice Lord slammed into the rock, bounced off, and was caught by his wind before he could descend much further. He glowered up at Mother Nature, taking her gloating pause as a chance to catch his breath.

The red marks on her cheek and eyes glowed a rich golden-brown, and faded away into her natural complexion.

_"Didn't you know I could heal?"_ she called down, and laughed.

Of course she could.

He shot upwards, and reached mentally for the clouds.

His storm ceased to hover at the edge of the fight, and a full score of lightning bolts shot from the leading edge. He directed them all at Seraphina, as quickly as he could. He missed a few, and they slammed into the green trees below. Fires started, and were immediately put out by the harsh winds and intermittent snow.

He was winter. He brought blizzards. Even to Dominica.

The lightning had not done nearly as much damage as he could have wished. Mother Nature's clothing was charred, but there were no other visible effects.

And she answered with her own storm, equal in size to his. The Ice Lord swept one hand at her creation, and set his storm on hers. If his blizzard overcame her thunderstorm, he would quickly gain dominion over the skies.

If she gave him the time.

Mother Nature had greater manoeuvrability in flight than he currently enjoyed. She swung around his charge, and the next he knew her heels slammed down between his shoulder blades, dropping him a dozen feet and making his back ache.

The Ice Lord gathered his strength, and channelled his power through the staff. Less than a heartbeat later, he wondered why he had bothered with the lightning.

Frost, ice magic, shot through the air as fast as a bullet. The resulting impact knocked Mother Nature back, and left patches of her skin glittering with ice. She flexed one arm, breaking chunks off, but there was too much of it for her to shed all of it at once.

It was encouraging- but draining. The Ice Lord had to concentrate, far too hard, to keep steady in the air. His winds lost their faint blue glow, returning to practical invisibility.

Mother Nature grinned. _"You are not like me."_

**_"What, insane?"_** he growled back. **_"You're right. I'm not."_**

She moved before he realized it. Only the pain of his shattered nose told him what had happened.

He pulled up out of the free fall- directly into her booted foot. The pain was worse.

But he had sought his own death with an insane single-minded intensity for ten years. He knew pain. It was an old friend. It meant he was alive. Even if he had to shove his own guts back into his stomach, even if it meant lying in a puddle of his own blood and tears, unable to move because he'd broken his neck- he was _alive_.

And now, he meant to _stay_ that way!

He roared, and spread his power up and out above his head, filling the air with sharp edged ice crystals. Diamond dust. He'd finally found a use for it.

Mother Nature shrieked, and he heard her winds roar as she spun away, still screaming. Had the ice gotten into her eyes? Poor child. Perhaps that would teach her to respect his power.

Though there wasn't much of it left. The blast he'd channelled through his staff, the fire... He was nearly out. There was enough, perhaps, if he didn't worry about flying afterwards. Not enough to defeat her, unless he spent every last drop in a single blow.

He could do it. And- he glanced over at the caged Guardians- he would. No one sane would do that. Better to remove her from the world, despite the backlash it would cause.

The Ice Lord forced his eyes open, and gathered the dregs of his magic into his staff. He kept enough separate, enough to fly, and little else. Even that would end up spent.

**_"You are a fool, Seraphina,"_** he called, and thunder growled overhead as punctuation. **_"You have let your power go to your head. Now you have forced my hand. I give you this chance, now, to yield- or I will put you down as the mad dog you are."_**

_"A fool?"_ Blood leaked from the corners of her eyes, but they were glowing with her healing energies. _"A fool! I am not the fool, you are!"_

**_"As you say."_** He paused, and smirked. **_"Bitch."_**

It astonished him at how the little insults were usually the tipping point.

Seraphina shrieked, and charged him. The Ice Lord raised his staff, and then at the last instant sent all of his power through it, directly into her chest.

He hung in freefall for a second.

Long enough to see her eyes widen.

Long enough to see the fire sphere swirl around her.

Long enough to see his ice magic hit-

-and dissipate.

And then he fell.

Mother Nature had won.

Jack cried out, and reached for the smallest scrap of magic, but there was nothing. He had used it all. And now he would hit the ice, and she would kill him. And who else? The Guardians? Other powerful spirits? Humankind?

The wind howled about him; not his winds, just the speed of his fall.

Yet he heard Aster scream his name.

Jack's eyes snapped shut and he reached for his power again. He reached further than he ever had, deeper, for the smallest particle. He reached for the least sparkle of blue. He was the Ice Lord, ruler of winter! He could not, would not fail in his duty!

An ocean rose up, and swallowed him whole.

Blue. Everything was blue. It was the power, the magic of ice and snow. He reached for it, and it came to him, merged with him, _became_ him. He breathed and the power breathed with him. His heart beat and the power rushed through his veins. For that moment in time, he was spread out through the power, his pathetic body simply gone, absorbed into the greater whole.

It was _belief_ , he realized. Not in him. Not in anyone. But in _winter_. In the snow. In the ice. In the cold. In closed schools and icy roads. In snowballs and frozen pipes. In midnight blizzards and noon sun glaring off the snow.

Humans _believed_ in winter.

And the Ice Lord _was_ winter.

Jack's eyes snapped open, and he flew down towards the ice as fast as he could.

He pulled up at the last moment, coming so close to the ice his passage tore up chunks and tossed them into the air. He continued up, up, turning his dive into a racing accent, going faster than he'd ever done before. There was a roaring sound, the air collapsing in behind his windstream, and when he stopped there was a great thunderclap.

Seraphina stared at him, struck speechless.

Jack Frost drew his power around him, until blue lightning crackled over his burns. Frost crawled across his arms and shoulders, writhing and shifting like a live thing. Around him spun his winds, so pure a blue it hurt to look at.

**_"This ends now,"_** he said, and then flew at Seraphina with every ounce of his new speed.

The impact hurt, distant and unimportant. Red blood splattered on his back and chest. He turned his flight down, peeled Mother Nature from his shoulder, and threw her forward at the ground. It should not have worked, but his winds came forward and carried her down, until she hit the ice with a sickening _crack_.

He landed not a second later, slamming hooves-first into the ice. That, too, hurt, but he directed his element's chill into aching bones, and ignored it.

Seraphina was a powerful spirit. Very little could or would kill her... but he knew one method that worked. Not for him. But for her?

He would _make_ it work.

She was broken. Healing, even with her speed, would be the work of decades. He would not give her that time.

Jack brought his staff up, sharpened the butt into a point with his ice, and brought it down, through her heart.

She convulsed, eyes and mouth wide open, and then her entire body slumped and relaxed in a way no living flesh could.

He pulled his staff free, and dismissed the ice. He watched, until her body began to crumble into dust.

Jack bowed his head, and closed his eyes. **_"Rest well, Seraphina,"_** he murmured, and sighed. **_"I'm sorry it came to this."_**

He was, he realized. He...

He fell to his knees, gasping. He had killed her. He had not simply stopped her, oh no, he had _killed_ her.

He had killed...

Jack's stomach lurched, and he threw his staff away. He'd killed her! Himself! With his own two hands! He'd stopped her and then he'd killed her! What- it hadn't been necessary, she'd been _stopped_. He'd _broken_ her. And then he'd- he'd-

The only bright side was that none of the vomit ended up on him.

He leaned back when his stomach was empty and the dry heaves had stopped, and stared at his hands. Such large, strong hands. The hands of a _monster_.

He looked away, and then up at the hanging cages. He had to free them. Then... He would lose them, they would leave him to his solitude, which was _all_ he deserved. The pain, the torture that was loneliness... Yes, he would embrace it, he would send Loptr and Katya away so they would be safe, and he would never trouble the world again. Not after what he had done.

Jack looked back down at the scant remains of Seraphina, and closed his eyes again. **_"I'm so sorry,"_** he whispered, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would _ever_ be enough.

He stood up, because however he felt for the dead, he had to tend to the living now. It was a monumental effort just to pick up his staff. It felt dead in his hands, yet his power filled it all the same. He lifted into the air, flying all at once effortless and one of the hardest things he had ever done. His body felt so _light_ , yet his heart was so heavy he was astonished it didn't tear through his body and fall out the soles of his hooves.

The Guardians all stared at him when he reached the level of their cages. He did his best to smile, but the expression predictably fell flat. **_"Hold on a minute,"_** he said, and reached for Sandy's cage first. The dreamweaver looked in agony. **_"I will have you out shortly."_**

The frost-covered bars, ironwood though they were, snapped easily enough under his hand. He winced at the sound, which was rather like that of breaking bones, and then pressed one hand to Sandy's shoulder. He felt... roots. Living roots, draining the former star of strength.

Jack ran his power over the roots, killing them with the cold. Once the last thread of plant life was dead, Sandy was able to shrug and shiver all over, and drop the entire twisted, knotted mess out of his body. His expression of relief was almost enough to make Jack cry, but he held it in.

He was the Ice Lord. He had to be strong. He could not and would not break down. Not now.

Not ever. Not again.

He moved to the next cage, Tooth's, and freed her as easily as he had freed Sandy. Easier, as there were no plants to kill. She flew out, and reached for his shoulder, before hesitating and drawing back.

"Jack," she said, voice quavering slightly.

**_"It's alright,"_** he said, quietly. Why would she want to touch him now? After what he'd done? Surely she was afraid of what he could do.

He freed North next, unable to face Aster without a second to steel himself. He moved back, so Sandy could lift North up onto a cloud of golden sand; smaller than usual, but strong enough and getting stronger.

Then he turned to Aster. The rabbit's expression was conflicted, and Jack winced away from deciphering it. He snapped the bars, and meant to move back so Sandy could gather Aster up to. He did. But he hesitated a second too long, and Aster caught him about the neck.

In a hug, he realized. It was a hug.

And then he was hugging the rabbit back, desperately, needing to feel that soft fur against his skin but so terrified of hurting him he almost tore free.

"It's alright," Aster whispered. "I'm a Pooka. Grew up on a planet two and a half times earth's gravity. Couldn't break my bones if you tried."

It was a sad little lie, but one Jack needed. He held on as tightly as he dared, and hid his face against Aster's shoulder.

And if he cried, the rabbit wouldn't tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating the end of my original story- as in, it's done. 92k in words, plus change. Which makes it longer than some favorite books of mine, which... The mind, it boggles.
> 
> So yeah, have an epic fight. Enjoy!


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Aster kept hold of Jack, even with the blood- and worse- soaking into his fur. His poor, poor Ice Lord... he'd thought Jack was done for, had felt his own heart clench and skip several beats when he'd seen his beloved falling, apparently unconscious.

And then Jack had swooped up, trailing blue lights, eyes all but glowing-!

If he hadn't been crying against Aster's neck, the Pooka might have begged Jack to take him right there, in full view of their friends and the whole world.

"Shh," he whispered, and ran one hand over Jack's hair. He grimaced at the blood that rubbed off onto his palm. Bath time. Just as soon as Jack calmed down. "It's alright, Frostbite. You're safe, we're safe..."

**_"No,"_** Jack said, voice choked to near incoherency. **_"It's not alright. You don't understand. I killed her. I didn't have to, but I did it anyways."_**

The Pooka blinked, and felt something inside his chest break a little. "First kill?" he whispered.

Jack nodded.

"Oh..." He bit off the 'love' he wanted to add, and almost bit a chunk off the tip of his tongue, too. "Here, let's get down to the ground. I'll talk better with something solid beneath my feet."

Jack nodded again, and then he floated backwards, arms still wrapped around Aster's back. Aster, for his part, felt fully justified in all but wrapping himself around Jack like a scarf, arms strangling-tight about his neck and legs twined around his waist.

They descended pretty quickly, and landed on the shore of the frozen lake. Aster took a moment to boggle at it; the amount of power it must have taken to flash-freeze a _boiling fumerole_. The ice was already starting to melt, but- but that sentence right there only _emphasized_ how insane the feat was. The ice was only _starting_ to melt. The boiling lake had _frozen over_. It was... impressive.

He wasn't alone in boggling at the achievement. And, unless he didn't remember right, Jack had managed it with a single snowflake. And that was _before_ he'd started glowing.

**_"Do you want to get down now?"_** Jack asked, very quietly. He wasn't looking at Aster, but his arms tightened about the Pooka's back.

Did he? Not really. But- Jack was trembling, so slightly he was fairly certain the Ice Lord didn't realize it. He unwrapped his legs from around Jack's waist, and slid down until he was standing on his own, but he remained pressed up against the winter spirit's side, cheek pillowed against the least burnt part of his chest. "You want to talk about it, mate?"

Jack trembled harder. **_"No."_**

Aster opened his mouth to press harder, when Tooth interrupted him. "What's that?"

He frowned, and looked over- but the other Guardians weren't paying him or Jack any mind. Instead, they were staring at a pile of dirt, or dust, that he knew instinctively was Seraphina's remains, and the four glowing lights dancing and spinning over them.

Sandy looked worried. The other two looked curious and wary, but Sandy looked _worried_.

"Sandy?" he called, and stepped away from Jack. He caught the Ice Lord's hand and tugged him after, before Jack could take the movement as a rejection. "You recognize this?"

Sandy waggled one hand in a 'so-so' gesture, and backed away from the lights. He also waved the others back, until they all stood several feet away.

The four lights started out white, but changed to colors as he watched. One was red-gold, one was green, one was blue, and one was a pale, pale violet. They spun around each other, faster and faster, until the colors began to slide into each other and it looked like there was a multi-colored halo spinning around in the air.

And then they stopped, so fast it took a second and some quick blinking for his eyes to catch up.

The four lights hung in midair, and the nearer of the two- blue and green- pulsed once and then _leapt_ into motion.

Straight at Aster and Jack.

Jack tried to shove Aster out of the way, but the green light curved around and slammed into his chest anyways. He yelped, and staggered back, and then the feeling hit.

It wasn't pain. It was bright and dark and the feeling was indescribable, and he was forgetting exactly how it'd felt even as it hit the crescendo and began to fade. Then the feeling was gone, leaving him able to remember only that it had been incredibly powerful, that it hadn't been painful, but nothing more.

It didn't seem to have changed him any. He felt the same, and when he looked down at himself, he looked the same too. He looked over at Jack, and winced. The Ice Lord had been hit, too, by the blue orb, and he must have thrashed about a touch. Several scabbed over cuts had broken open and were leaking again. Apart from that, though, he seemed alright.

Well, other than the quiet despair that had returned to his expression, now that the light show appeared to be over.

The other two lights had vanished while Aster had been distracted. He resolved to ask the others, later.

"Jack," North said, and wrapped one arm around the Ice Lord's shoulders. "You will come with us, now. You will feel better when you have washed and been mended. Come. Let us take care of you."

It was telling that Jack didn't put up even a token protest. Tooth exchanged a glance with North, and then took hold of Jack's elbow on the other side, one of the few parts of his body that didn't seem injured in some way. North fished out a snow globe from his pocket, looked up at the cages still hung over the melting lake with a grimace, and then threw the globe against the ground.

Aster barely noticed the stomach churning trip through the portal. He was entirely focused on Jack, shuffling blindly along beside North, hunched over on himself. When they entered the Workshop, the yeti and elves started cheering their return. Not even that got a reaction. Aster stepped up and took Tooth's place, one hand on Jack's elbow, the other wrapped around his hand.

After a few minutes of the crowd roaring their relief and delight at the Guardians' return, North was able to signal for quiet. "Phil, fetch David and Linda for medic duty. Someone get food, for we are hungry and must eat like bears!"

Aster grimaced, and hoped the kitchen yeti remembered he was a _vegetarian_ bear. "C'mon, Jack," he murmured, and tugged on the Ice Lord's arm. "Not so far now. Let's go."

It took North, and Phil, to get Jack up the stairs. Aster glanced at the elevator, but winced at the sight of it. Either it was in the middle of being upgraded, or repaired, but either way it wasn't usable.

Aster hadn't been in the Workshop's medical wing more than two or three times total, and had at best hazy memories of the place. Usually when he visited, it was because he'd been injured badly enough to need actual treatment. Like that one concussion, that'd been bad enough he'd leaked blood from one ear and both nostrils, or the time he'd broken his leg in three places. With most injuries he holed up in his own Warren, healing on his own. Pooka were- had been- a robust species, and between that and all his believers, it was rare for an injury to last very long.

The room was fairly sizable; he supposed it was meant mostly for yeti workers injured on the job. Even these days, it happened. Especially with the elves underfoot. There were fourteen beds, each sized for a yeti- so big enough for Jack, as long as he didn't toss and turn much- and the entire thing was done in shades of 'institution gray'. Rather dull, but patients must heal up in a hurry to get out faster.

Probably the idea, that.

First, Jack was taken to the small bathroom. North and Phil quickly sluiced him down, making him stand in the small, freestanding tub while they poured water over his shoulders, chest, and back. It wasn't much of a bath, but it got most of the dirt off him before they put him to bed on the clean, white sheets.

Jack didn't respond, not even when the two yeti medics arrived and started to work. At that point, the Guardians were sent out of the room. For Jack's privacy, Aster supposed, though it could have been because North had no head for injuries. _Causing_ them, he could do that just fine. Fixing them, the man turned green and hurled up everything, including his toenails. Rather distracting for the medics.

They waited in the hallway outside the door. Aster slumped backwards against the wall, and then slid down until he was sitting. Lovely, solid floor beneath him. No swaying, no bouncing, no looking down a horrific distance at far off ground.

He _hated_ heights.

Though being carried through the air by Jack hadn't been _so_ bad. He'd had a distraction.

"Did you know he could do that, Bunny?" Tooth asked. She looked just as emotionally wrung out as he felt, and she was standing on the floor instead of hovering, like she normally did.

"Which part?" Fly faster than the speed of sound? Toss a blizzard around during equatorial summer like it was nothing? Control lightning? Go toe to toe with one of the strongest demi-gods of the spirit world and _win_?

"Any of it, I suppose." Tooth swayed to the side, until she was leaning up against North.

"Just that he could play with storms, some." That reminded him. "Sera seemed off to any of you?"

Tooth and North both shook their heads, but Sandy nodded. That made sense. Sandy was old enough to remember Sera's childhood.

"That out of season hurricane," he said, voice flat. "She created it. It would've been stronger, but Jack snuck some of the power out of it."

Sandy looked shocked, but not as if he was hearing something unexpected. More like he was hearing a confirmation of his worst suspicions. He sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

"I... don't understand," North said. "That storm, it would have killed many. Why...?"

"Dunno. Only that she did." Aster closed his eyes. He... He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry over Seraphina's death, or not. She'd been such a sweet child- and recently she'd created one killer storm that he knew of, and locked the four Guardians up in cages as bait so she could kill Jack.

Maybe he'd cry over the little girl she'd been, and mourn that innocent child's death. That sounded about right. Him, North, and Sandy; they'd have a drink in her memory, before midnight Greenwich time. He'd tell stories about Sera's first, fumbling attempts at manipulating genetics, how she'd at first tried to recreate creatures from both Gallifrey and her own home world, and how she'd helped him shape Australia to be as much like his old home as possible.

"Do you think...?" Tooth trailed off, and stared at the closed door across from them. "She wanted to kill Jack."

"He stopped her storm, more or less," Aster pointed out.

Sandy nodded, and waved one hand to catch their attention. He signed, in so many words, that Seraphina had been growing ever more distant, from everyone.

"Pitch?" North suggested, but without any real energy. He clearly didn't believe it himself.

"Probably not," Tooth said, and sighed. "Probably just... Thinking she was right, and everyone else was wrong."

"Another flood," Aster suggested. "That one yonks back was an accident, but she might've meant for another bottleneck, or maybe just..." An extinction event, so as to start over. Or not; the woman who'd locked them up had seemed the type to enjoy scouring the earth to bare rock and empty seas.

"Well, it didn't happen," North said, and Sandy echoed the sentiment with a fierce nod, and a sad look at the door. "Jack... Was that first kill, do you think?"

Aster nodded. The others all sighed. "Maybe he'll be well enough for a drink or two, after the yeti are finished," Tooth said. "Get him drunk, that's the thing. He'll feel better if he can cry and be sick without hurting his manly pride..."

North made a face, but apparently agreed enough not to argue.

Aster agreed with Tooth. After _his_ first battle, his squad leader had taken him out to the nearest standing bar, gotten him so drunk he couldn't see straight, and then bought him a prostitute for the night. He'd woken up after, so hung over he could barely stand up, having lost his virginity to a di'Taykan of all creatures, and with a bit of a buffer between him and the horrible memories of blood spraying through the air and the feel of his sword as it caught on bone.

They wouldn't be able to get Jack black-out drunk, but a few shots of North's vodka would let him- if not relax, then accept what had happened.

They all fell silent, subtly and not so subtly watching the door. Aster, after several minutes, got up and started pacing.

It felt like forever before the door opened, and one of the yetis nodded and gestured for them to come in. Aster went through first, and stumbled when he caught sight of Jack.

The Ice Lord was 'dressed', from shoulders to ankles, in bandages.

He even had bandages wrapped around his head, spotted with blood at the forehead. Both shoulders were wrapped up, tightly, and one arm was in a sling. More bandages were wrapped around his chest- his ribs- and while he had on what looked like a kilt that covered him from waist almost to the knee, Aster could just see more bandages peeking out from under the hem. His lower legs, though, weren't bandaged.

No, they were propped up on pillows, and each one was wrapped in a plaster cast.

**_"It seems,"_** Jack said, slurring just a touch, enough for Aster to peg the cause as 'an entire lorry's worth of painkillers', **_"that I managed to shatter the bones in my lower legs. And my knees aren't too happy either."_**

"Ah, Frostbite." Aster moved over to the side of the bed, and picked up one bandaged hand. He frowned at the spots of blood over Jack's knuckles, and finally sighed. Right. He'd torn up his knuckles with the punching.

The Ice Lord's eyes were very hazy, though not as much as the Pooka had expected. **_"You shouldn't,"_** he said, and sighed.

"Shouldn't what?" The others gathered in closer, but Aster paid them no mind now that he was finally touching Jack again. Hand, wrist, down the forearm to the elbow, then up to the shoulder which- ouch, even he could tell when someone's arm had been popped back into the socket, though the echoing sensation seemed louder for some reason- and then down to the chest.

**_"Be here."_** Jack frowned, and shook his head a few times, very slowly. **_"With me."_** That statement didn't seem to please him any more than the first.

"Why not?"

The drugs seemed to have taken some of the edge off of Jack's emotions, at least. Pain killers in place of alcohol weren't recommended, but pain killers mixed with alcohol was worse. At least Jack was talking.

**_"I'm a monster."_ **

His heart didn't break, it just felt like it.

Tooth picked up Jack's other hand. "Why do you think that?" she asked, her eyes very sad.

Jack blinked, forehead scrunched up as though he were first trying to puzzle out her words, and then second trying to figure out how to respond. **_"Because I killed her,"_** he said. **_"Mother Nature. Seraphina. I didn't have to, but I did."_**

Sandy reached around Tooth, and patted Jack's wrist with one hand. He looked uncommonly serious, and didn't make any sand shapes. Not that Jack was up to interpreting them.

"In heat of battle, sometimes, things... they happen," North said. "Is not your fault."

**_"But it is my responsibility!"_** Jack glared up at North, before his gaze became hazy again.

"Jack," Tooth said. Her hands looked tiny where they wrapped around Jack's hand. "Listen to me. If you hadn't stopped her, she would have held a grudge and come _back_."

**_"I didn't have to_** **kill _her,"_** Jack mumbled. He looked down at the kilt, and frowned, looking confused. **_"Where did my loincloth go? It used to be my pants. I need it."_**

North and Sandy both looked at the nearest yeti, who growled something about a laundry and repairs. Sandy showed a loincloth, tattered and burnt, and then showed a laundry tub, then a needle and some thread. Jack watched, mouth partly open and eyes glazed.

**_"Again?"_** he asked, somewhat wistfully, when Sandy finished. The dreamweaver sighed, but his smile was more fond than exasperated.

"Loincloth will be mended and returned shortly," North said.

**_"Oh."_** Jack looked down at his hands, and frowned. **_"Why are you still touching me?"_** he asked, looking from Tooth to Aster, and back.

Aster cleared his throat. "Lookit me, mate. Now listen close. Seraphina... She'd gone starkers, making those killer storms an' threatening the balance, hadn't she?"

Jack nodded, slowly, and looked as though he was trying to find the trap.

"She wasn't going to stop." Jack nodded again, even more doubtfully. "She was going to kill you. And then she was going to do worse than she'd already done."

**_"But I didn't have to-"_ **

"Yes." Aster put every bit of conviction he could into the word. "You did."

Jack looked away, but the others were nodding. Even the yeti, who clearly didn't know what, exactly, they were agreeing with.

**_"There will be trouble from this,"_** Jack said, but all the same he sounded... more at ease. **_"Working against it or not, Seraphina was the balance of the seasons. With her dead..."_**

"Nothing you can do about it right now," Aster pointed out. "First thing you need to do is rest and heal up. She'll be apples, Jack. Crabapples, maybe, but still."

Jack stared at him for a moment, and then began to laugh.

The others filed out of the room, so Aster was the only one there when the laughter turned to tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter coming today, 'cause Wednesday is Christmas. Happy holidays everyone!


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jack looked up from the book in his hands- a most amusing romp by a fairly popular, early twenty-first century author- and tilted his head to the side in question. **_"Such serious faces,"_** he said, aware that his own expression took on a serious cast of its own.

His grief had lost its immediacy, thanks both to time and a large dose of pain killing medication. Seraphina was dead, and there was no bringing her back. Now that he'd had time to rationalize, instead of just feel... Well, he regretted what he had done, and was sorry that it had been necessary. But it _had_ been necessary, and better that it had been fast.

He was in mourning, but as for a stranger, instead of a more immediate friend. He was concerned about what Seraphina's death had done to the balance, and the work he would have to do as the ruler of winter. And what of the other seasons? He could do nothing for them, and who else would?

Aster moved immediately over to the seat he had claimed, the actual edge of the bed. Jack didn't mind, though he wasn't sure why the rabbit was so fond of the spot. Although... Of late, the Ice Lord had noticed the rabbit's odd fondness for _touch_. Yet said fondness was only for Jack's touch. It had... given him hope, of a sort, though only recently had he begun to realize what he'd been hoping _for_.

Tooth, North, and Sandy sat down on chairs- or floated- and all four studied him intently. He stared back, hiding his discomfort by folding down one corner of the page he was on and setting the book aside.

**_"Yes?"_** he growled, and frowned at them. It seemed to amuse Sandy the most; the little man laughed silently and did a back flip in mid air.

Aster turned around, and began fussing with Jack's hair. He allowed it, if only because the sensation was nice.

Which had nothing to do with why his hand was on the rabbit's knee. Nothing. At all.

He wasn't even convincing himself anymore.

"Have you noticed anything... odd lately, Jack?" Tooth asked. She leaned forward, and braced her elbows on her knees. "About your powers?"

If he could have raised one eyebrow, he would have. Instead, he tilted his head to the side again. **_"Odd, how?"_**

Aster grunted. "Ya remember those lights?"

Of course. How could he forget? While he didn't recall much about actually being _hit_ by the orb, everything before and after was still almost too clear in his mind. He nodded, and narrowed his eyes. **_"And?"_**

"We think was... Well." North stroked his hand over his beard. "Some of Mother Nature's magic, yes? Bunny was hit, and Bunny makes floorboards grow."

Wait, what? He turned and squinted at the rabbit.

Aster huffed, and tied off- was that a braid? In Jack's hair? "That was an accident." He frowned, but not at Jack. "I got annoyed with an elf. Next anybody knew some of the floorboards had sprouted twigs."

**_"I take it that's unusual."_** Jack directed a portion of his attention to the wells of his power and-

Had he been standing, he would have staggered. As it was, he clutched desperately at anything solid that fell beneath his hands. When he recovered his sight, he discovered he had broken the nightstand to one side, and was gripping Aster's thigh in an equally tight- but apparently less destructive- grip.

The others were babbling, but only Sandy was making anything like sense. Jack snarled, low and threatening, a sound which he knew bypassed the thinking mind and attacked the instincts.

North and Tooth drew back, and even Sandy paused with his shapes. Aster leaned harder against Jack's shoulder, but at least he fell silent while doing so.

**_"Something is wrong with my magic,"_** Jack said, flatly.

Sandy, showing the most sense, showed a large question mark.

**_"It is... more, and not just to the limits I discovered during the fight."_** The limits that hadn't existed, but there was no need to worry them. **_"I cannot describe it, any more than I could possibly explain the color yellow or the taste of strawberries. But my magic has changed."_**

"Like mine has, I reckon," Aster said, after a brief silence as the Guardians digested that. "Your powers are broader, aren't they?"

He nodded, cautiously, although 'broader' didn't come close to encompassing everything he had felt in that brief moment.

Relearning how to use his power would be... annoying.

Yet he had done it before, twice now. First when he had woken as Jack Frost; the fumbling had always been _amusing_ at the time, and even now he could find a weary sort of humor to the remembered mishaps. As for learning as the Ice Lord... the only one he had ever injured was himself.

"Sandy has suspicion," North said, cutting through his train of thought.

Jack eyed them sidelong. **_"Well?"_**

Sandy went through the shapes. Jack recognized some of them, but not enough to have it all form a coherent whole. He turned to the others, and tilted his head back to 'raise' his eyebrows.

"Seraphina's powers didn't just go away," Tooth said. Her wings fluttered, in quick, nervous spurts of movement. "Sandy thinks- and we agree- her seasonal powers went to the nearest people for whom it would be... appropriate."

"Winter to Ice Lord, spring to Easter Bunny," North said.

"It makes the most sense, of all possible explanations," Aster said.

Jack folded his arms, and studied the blankets draped over his hooves. **_"Is there any way to verify?"_**

"Only by watching and waiting," Aster said. Sandy nodded, and showed a calendar, flipping through the months.

Well, if the world did begin to tilt out of balance, they would certainly notice. And if it did not- either the balance was not as fragile as he had always sensed it to be, or the theory was correct, and Seraphina's seasonal duties had been passed on.

**_"One might say it is a form of mantle,"_** he said, thinking out loud. **_"Which is not as bad as it could be. Well. We shall see if that is correct or not."_** And soon. Summer was almost over, which meant winter would soon be near. Autumn and spring were, in general, the less volatile seasons.

Although, considering what had happened to his powers, he rather suspected he did have this 'mantle', for lack of a better word.

He nodded once, mostly to himself, and leaned back against the pillows. He also reached over and rested one hand on Aster's knee; rubbing his thumb against the side of the joint made the rabbit shiver pleasantly. Jack was not certain just what to call the emotion the rabbit inspired in him- but he was beginning to suspect.

"Ah, we have other thing to speak with you about," North said. He cleared his throat, and looked to the side. "You are- that is- ah, how do I say this?"

"From the beginning?" Tooth suggested, feathers alternatively puffed up and slicked down. Aster would not meet Jack's eyes. Only Sandy looked calm, but he also appeared to be arguing with one of the medics about eggnog and whether it was allowed in the room.

Sandy was a good man, but he could be distracted quite easily.

Jack rumbled deep in his chest, a wordless encouragement that made Aster's eyes widen and his whiskers twitch. **_"The beginning is always a good place to start,"_** he agreed.

"Very well. You know what we do as Guardians?" North gestured around the small gathering. "How we protect children?"

He inclined his head in lieu of speaking. He also knew that they had ignored one young spirit, and while they had their reasons, it- it still hurt, at the oddest of moments. Not that he had been alone, but that it had taken so long for... For North's enthusiasm and Sandy's companionship and Tooth's cheer and whatever it was between him and Aster.

"Well." North coughed into his fist, and muttered under his breath in Russian. "Would you- that is, we think _you_ would make good Guardian."

He couldn't help it; he laughed, loud and bitter. **_"The Moon chooses the Guardians, not you,"_** he said, and gestured at the window. The gibbous moon seemed to hang in the center of the frame, as an odd sort of picture. Perhaps one playing with perspective. **_"And we all know the Moon-"_**

"Manny chose you," Tooth said. She bit her lip, and for some reason looked to Aster.

**_"Oh?"_** he asked, not quite sneering. **_"When?"_** Before or after the Moon had told them to _kill_ Jack?

"A century ago," Aster whispered.

Jack nearly gave himself whiplash, he turned to face the rabbit so quickly. **_"What did you say?"_** he breathed, barely able to speak.

He had certainly seen the rabbit as miserable as this before, but- not for some time. His fur about the face was slicked down, his ears were tilted back, and his shoulders were hunched. Nor could he seem to meet Jack's eyes.

"I said that a century ago... Do you recall back when Pitch was causing that ruckus?"

He nodded slowly. **_"It was a month before I became the Ice Lord."_**

Aster flinched. "Well, y'see... Just before- about a day before- Pitch made his first move, well..."

"Manny chose you," North said, when Aster seemed to become mute.

Jack blinked. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. His heart beat, pace unchanged. Not a muscle twitched, not a hair shifted, his eyes did not flicker. He simply regarded North calmly. For some reason that seemed to bother the others.

**_"And yet,"_** he said. **_"I was not offered the post."_**

"No," Aster whispered. Jack turned, again, to face him.

**_"And why not?"_** he asked.

The rabbit's lips trembled; he looked up, and then away from Jack. "Because I said... I said that if- if Jack Frost was made a Guardian... I'd quit."

Jack's eyes widened, and then he, very carefully, removed his hand from Aster's knee. Because otherwise he would have done something improper. Like crush it.

**_"You cast judgement on me,"_** he said, almost surprised at how calm he sounded. He did not _feel_ calm. His heart raced and his chest ached and he wanted to _break_ something. **_"You knew I was alone, did you not? And yet you chose- you_ believed _\- I was not worthy- that- you_ knew _\- I had_ nothing _, no friends, no home, no-"_**

Aster cringed back when Jack stood up. He was not the only one. Even the yeti managed to look pale. He ignored them, for the most part, and moved over to the window. It was but the work of a moment to swing it open, for North was fond of the older fashion in windows, where they lacked a screen.

He stared up at the moon, and drew his power in close about him, until it swirled around him in streamers of blue and white. **_"Everyone knew,"_** he said quietly, letting his voice fill the room like distant thunder. **_"_ You _knew. I had no believers then. And a Guardian_ needs _the belief of children to survive, else they will fade and die. Did you think me a fool?"_**

Jack took a deep breath, and let it out. **_"How long have you wanted to kill me, Manfred Lunar?"_** he asked. Someone behind him gasped; he ignored them. **_"Since you called me from the lake? After? At what point did you decide you had failed somehow, and decided to rid yourself of an inconvenience? And how much better, how much simpler if you could get some use out of me first?_**

**_"You are a_** **fool _._** ** _Mahatma Ghandi said, 'There can be no good end if there are no good means.' Nothing you have done in regards to me has been_ good _. Three hundred years of silence, damn you! You had the indecency to- to condemn me to hell and not one word! The devil with you! You are naught but a heathen's egg, a serpent's tooth! Stay up there- no one wants you! And know this,"_** he growled, hands glowing with his power. **_"_ Know this _. Forever will I be_ your _enemy, Tsar Lunar, though no mortal born of earth shall have cause to fear me. And should you interfere in my life again..."_**

He snarled, and brought up his hands. The glow emphasized the single fingered salute he gave the moon with both of them.

Jack turned from the window, a thread of wind curling around the window and closing it with a gentle rattle. He dismissed his power; he no longer had current need of it.

The Guardians remained in their seats, with varying degrees of shock and dawning horror on their faces. All but one. The rabbit looked miserable and nothing else. He knelt on the side of the bed now, and Jack did not think it was imagination that made those green eyes shimmer.

Jack crossed back to the bed, and reached over to cup his hands on Aster's cheeks. **_"Kangaroo,"_** he murmured, and the rabbit's eyes widened.

He hesitated, but leaned forward until his lips brushed over Aster's. **_"Thank you,"_** he breathed. He brushed their lips together again. **_"Meant to or not..."_** Another gentle touch of lips to lips; Aster lifted his hands to touch Jack's wrists. **_"...You saved my life."_** This time the- the kiss, yes, he was kissing Aster, he would worry about that later- lasted longer, and the contact was firmer. **_"For that, I thank you."_**

He kissed Aster a final time, eyes open the barest sliver as he parted his lips to touch the tip of his tongue to Aster's mouth. This would never happen again. He wanted to know how the rabbit tasted.

And then Aster was clutching at his wrists and trying to press into the contact, and his mouth was opening beneath Jack's, as his tongue came out to brush against Jack's, and the Ice Lord would forever after deny the sound he made was anything so plebian as a _groan_.

Jack pulled away before he did something... foolish, and breathed in great gulps of air. **_"Ah,"_** he said, elegantly.

"Yeah," Aster whispered, and turned his head to press a kiss to Jack's palm.

He had to sit down. Not only were his legs aching as though his bones had been replaced by fire, but the medics were scowling at him. And his knees might have gone weak. But _that_ certainly wasn't the biggest factor.

Once he was settled on the bed, the rabbit curled up against his side with what he was certain was a delighted _purr_. Well. Jack certainly wasn't going to complain about the warm press of fur against his skin, or the possessive hand on his thigh. Not when he wrapped an arm around Aster's back so as to pull him in closer, or when he shivered with each shift of position Aster made. The fur against his skin felt better than- than anything ever had, be it silk, velvet, or expensive cotton.

North cleared his throat. "Ah. Well. Is that no to Guardianship, or yes?"

Jack gave the old man his best haughty look. **_"I will think on it."_**

Aster chuckled, and nuzzled against Jack's side.

That, he did not have to think on. They _would_ speak, just as soon as there was a little privacy.

"Are you very angry with us?" Tooth asked. She leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed together in the center.

He tilted his head to the side. **_"Have you ever seriously wished me dead?"_**

"No..."

Jack spread his hand in a 'well, then' gesture. **_"Am I at all pleased at the moment? No, but much of my ire is with the great, floating rock in the sky. I am sore, I am tired, and to add to that I must relearn how to use my magic again, as it has changed on me."_**

"Oh," Tooth said, and leaned back. She frowned, and turned to pull out a- a bag? Where had she hidden that? Beneath her feathers? It was a small bag, true, but how had he missed that? "Oh! I'd forgotten I had this with me."

"This?" North asked, echoed by Sandy who showed a question mark.

"I think it's your tooth box," Tooth said, and pulled out a slender, golden box. There was a picture on one end, but it was too small for him to see details. "It's the only male Overland child of the right age and the right time, from Burgess."

Jack stared at the box, and huffed a single laugh. Of course. As if the day- the last several days- had not been emotional enough.

**_"I suppose I had best look at it now. Before anything else happens."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, 'cause looking at those memories won't go badly, Jack, no... But yeah, Jack's got reason for issues with Manny. As you can see. But at last, the boys have kissed!


	31. Chapter Thirty

Aster measured the length of the room again, then spun and stared at the tableau on the bed. It hadn't changed, not since they'd started. About half an hour in Jack's eyes had opened, and he'd stared off at nothing- or, technically, into his memories- and then an hour in he'd started _crying_ , but other than that neither he nor Tooth had moved.

"How much longer?" he asked.

North didn't look up from his cards. The four of them- North, Sandy, and the two yeti medics- were playing for miniature candy canes. "As long as it takes. Да? Calm down, I will deal you hand."

"I'm not playing poker with you, ya yobbo. You cheat." Sandy was better at it. North, at least, could get _caught_. The two yeti were keeping up only because it was hard to tell when they were bluffing, the thick hair covered all but the most expansive of facial expressions. With his thin fur, ears, and whiskers...

Well, he'd never been all too good at holding a poker face. Especially when there were more important things to focus on.

Jack was sitting on the bed, legs propped up on pillows again. After the brief interlude of _extremely_ enjoyable kissing, the yeti had insisted on checking over their patient before he started searching through his memories. At least the box was his. It'd started glowing the moment he'd touched it, which apparently was all the proof Tooth had needed.

Tooth knelt beside Jack, her hands wrapped around his, the tooth box completely hidden between Jack's palms. Only a few hints of bright, golden light showed through the cracks. Apart from Jack's tears, they looked like two statues, breathing so shallowly he could barely hear them, and never mind see the rise and fall of their chests.

He didn't like how long it was taking. Or the tears on Jack's cheeks.

Aster turned and began measuring the length of the room again.

He paced back and forth, controlling his stride so each step was exactly the same distance as all the others, so he didn't speed up or slow down, and so he got the same number every time. Fifty-two and a half steps from the window to the door, turn, fifty-two and a half steps back. He'd all but memorized the patterns in the floorboards.

At least he'd figured out how to tamp down on the- on his feet. The magic in them. Highly embarrassing, especially once North decided to call that new ability 'fertile feet', as though he were some harvest goddess or spring maiden. He was neither goddess nor maiden- wrong plumbing, and even if he'd had the _right_ plumbing he hadn't been a _maiden_ since after his first battle- and while he was of spring, he'd never- _yes_ , he made flowers bloom, but only when his tunnels closed up. Never just by walking across a field.

He huffed, and looked over at the tableau again. And stopped, mid-stride. The light from the box was getting brighter, and Tooth's wings were moving. Glacially slowly, but still. Moving.

"Oy, you dole bludgers. They're coming out of it."

"What did you call us?" North asked, echoed by the yetis' grumbling. Sandy just looked amused, but well he might. He had the most candy canes.

Aster ignored them, and moved over to the side of the bed.

Tooth had told them all, with a pointed look at the Pooka, not to touch either of them until they were all the way out of the memories. Apparently outside contact could have effects, unpredictable ones, ranging from the outsider getting pulled in to watch, or for them to be switched over to the outsider's memories, or for Jack's memories to be warped or outright shattered... Aster almost wished he was wearing his coat, so he could shove his hands into his pockets. Lacking that, he clasped his hands behind his back, and chewed on his lower lip.

Tooth blinked, shook her head, blinked again, and pulled her hands off Jack's. Literally pulled, as though she were struggling against strong glue.

"Oh," she said, once she'd gotten free. "That was unexpected."

"What was?" Aster caught her elbow, and helped her off the bed. North and Sandy took over then, and one of the yeti began fussing over Tooth. He ended up growling, shoving both of the Guardians aside, and carrying Tooth over to a bed.

"His life," she said, just before the yeti stuck a thermometer in her mouth.

Aster blinked at her, then turned to Jack. He was beginning to move too- he'd clenched his eyes shut, and clutched the box with desperate hands- but he didn't seem willing to move any more than that.

"Jack?" he asked, and risked a touch to the Ice Lord's shoulder.

He shuddered, and pulled away. Aster held still, one hand in the air, and fought down his hurt. "Jack?"

Jack made a sound that, had it been any higher in pitch, would have been called _keening_. And then he flung himself from the bed- across half the _room_ \- and scrambled into the corner nearest the window. He huddled there, whimpering and keening and rocking back and forth.

Aster forced himself to take one step forward, then another, and then another forty-nine. He crouched down next to Jack again, but didn't touch this time. "Mate?"

Jack's eyes opened, and he gasped, but there was no recognition in his gaze. Tears leaked steadily down his cheeks. Aster could all but hear his heart beat, unusually fast; he could see the pulse pounding away in the big veins of Jack's neck. He was tense, muscles clenched and tendons standing out like cords.

He risked another touch, this time cupping Jack's cheek. "C'mon Jack, look at me," he urged. "Whatever it was, it can't have been-"

Jack stood up, and knocked Aster arse over teakettle. He propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see the Ice Lord chuck his tooth box at the wall, as hard as he good.

The golden painted wood shattered, and baby teeth sprayed out across the floor. Tooth made a muffled sound that might have been intended as a shriek. North and Sandy both moved forward, but Jack spun on them.

**_"No!"_** he bellowed, voice cracking. **_"No, no, no!"_**

The temperature began to drop. Frost- and then thicker ice- crawled up the walls and across the floor. It wasn't as bad as when Aster had asked about Jack that first time, no one ended up bleeding, but he left tufts of fur still frozen to the floor when he pulled himself up.

Jack wasn't seeing him; the lights were clearly on, but no one was home. Aster wanted to do nothing more than wrap his arms around Jack's shoulders and hold him until he came back, but- the diamond dust forming in the air made that a bad idea. He'd freeze long before he could help anyone.

It hurt to watch. Jack didn't crumble nearly as much as he shattered. The corner of the room was frozen solid. It wasn't possible for him to back any further into the corner, and when a wooden board snapped, twisted apart by the thick ice that continued to grow, Jack recoiled and bumped into a bed.

The bed was quickly killed, torn in two, and then the pieces frozen into lumps of ice.

Aster swallowed, and if he wasn't huddling against North, he was keeping close. "Jack," he called. "Mate. We're here. Whatever it is, we're here."

The Ice Lord's wavering gaze turned to him, and then the man was whimpering and cowering back. **_"No,"_** he said again, and- was that a _sob_?

It was. Jack's shoulders jerked and his sides heaved as he cried, great, gasping sobs that surely _hurt_ the longer it went on. He collapsed, and cut his knees open on the jagged ice, and didn't seem to notice.

Instead he wrapped his arms around himself in a desperate hug, and rocked back and forth as he cried. Blood smeared over the ice and froze. More ice covered Jack's arms and shoulders, and crept down his sides. And the sounds he made-! They were indescribable, even for an old Pooka with a vocabulary spanning a few hundred languages.

Aster blinked, and then reached up to touch his cheek with one hand. The pads of his fingers glittered, wet with tears, when he looked down at his hand.

He didn't know what it was that caught Jack's eye; something outside the window. He looked, and winced. The moon was still visible, but only just. Considering Jack's enmity with Manny...

**_"You,"_** Jack growled, sounding not at all himself. He continued to rock, and every other word was punctuated with a sob. **_"You did this. You_ took them from me _! I had a_ family _!"_** he shrieked, voice strained and cracking. **_"_ I had a family _! I loved them!_ I saved her _! I_ know _I did!"_** He slammed one fist into the wall, and more wood cracked. Blood showed on the splintered ends of the planks, blood that glistened for half a second before it froze. Jack didn't seem to notice.

**_"_ You took her from me _!"_** Jack howled, and Aster's heart dropped into his stomach.

And then his stomach dropped into his knees, because Jack lifted a small _sword_ of ice high in both hands, and started to bring it down.

Aster flung himself forward; inches ahead of North's grab, and caught Jack's wrists. The cold _burned_ , and hurt, and then it stopped hurting because his hands had gone _numb_.

"Don't, Jack!" It took everything he had just to slow the sword's descent, and at the last second he had the idea of changing the angle. The point of the sword dug into the ice covered floor, instead of Jack's stomach. "No. Jack, no. Don't do that."

The Ice Lord's eyes were wild, pupils shrunk down to pinpricks. He didn't struggle against Aster's grip- yet. **_"What's left for me?"_** he asked. **_"My duty? What good is that? My family is gone. I died, and then they did. And they left me behind."_**

"So's mine," he whispered. All his people... turned to fearlings, and then killed one by one whenever he'd found them. There'd been no way to release them from the hell Pitch had condemned them to, and he wouldn't have left anyone to that suffering.

"You're not alone Jack. I know it hurts. I _know_ ," he said, and let a little of his ancient grief show. "You're _supposed_ to have your family. They're supposed to be there for you, and you for them, and they're _gone_. And you're all that's left. And it hurts, like someone tore open your heart and you're bleeding out on the inside, but dying's not the answer. It's not."

Jack watched him, face still twisted in grief, but he didn't try to pull free and finish the job with his sword. Aster kept talking. As long as he was talking, Jack wasn't trying to kill himself.

"You can't throw your life away," he said. "They wouldn't want you to, would they? Because they loved you, and they'd want you to pick yourself up, and find something new to live for, and thrive." Some days it had been the only thing to keep him going. "Don't do this, Jack. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you do have things to live for."

**_"What?"_** Jack asked. **_"Tell me, what do I have to live for? And don't say duty,"_ ** he spat. **_"I spent a century suffering under that yoke."_**

Aster bit his lip. "The children. They like you- they'd miss you if you went away."

**_"They will forget me in a few short years."_ **

"But they'll remember the stories, and they'll tell their children, and their children will tell their children, and on. There's Katya and Loptr- aren't they your ankle biters? You'd leave them alone?"

Jack's expression eased slightly, and the desperation in his eyes did too. Aster wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Jack wouldn't leave his kids behind. He loved them, even if he never said it. He didn't have to.

"It's horrible, having a parent just... do themselves like that," he said, and closed his eyes.

**_"Bunny?"_ **

"It's nothing," he said, and shrugged it off. This was about Jack, not him. "And us. We'd miss you." He jerked his head to the side, indicating the other Guardians. "You're our friend. And..." And Aster loved him, but something stilled his tongue.

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he let go of the sword hilt. The point wasn't very far into the wood. It over balanced and shattered when it hit the floor.

**_"It hurts,"_** Jack whispered. **_"It hurts so much. I had them... and then they were gone, and I was so alone."_**

Aster pulled his hands off Jack's wrists, and winced a bit at the pain. It was dull and distant, enough for him to ignore. It felt safe enough to wrap his arms around Jack's shoulders now. And the Ice Lord's skin was cold, but not freezing. "I'm so sorry."

**_"Why?"_** Jack didn't sob, but the word had all the force of one. **_"Why did I have to be alone? It hurt. I didn't understand... Not for years. And everyone seemed to hate me. They liked each other but not me, and I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong."_**

The Pooka just tightened his grip. What could he say? He- they all- had ignored Jack, all that time. They'd just assumed... And the result of their assumptions was crying into his shoulder right now.

**_"I thought things would get better, but they never did."_ **

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," he whispered.

**_"It was better, when I hid in my fortress,"_** Jack said, quietly. Calmly, too. **_"I had my books, and my music, and my duty, and I told myself that was enough. It hurt, but the pain was dull, so I could ignore it. But then... then you came to my fortress and brought light and color, and everything hurt all over again."_**

Aster cringed without letting go. He heard North clear his throat, and then say, "we never meant to hurt you." The old Cossack sounded a bit choked up. Jack's grief must have gotten to him too.

**_"But you did,"_** Jack said, with all the innocent grief of a young child. **_"You made my heart thaw and it hurt."_**

"Humans can't survive with a frozen heart," Tooth said.

Jack sighed. **_"I know. I have_ met _the Snow Queen."_** He looked around, and Aster felt him cringe. **_"I broke your room. I'm sorry."_**

"Is nothing, room needed redecorating anyways." North stepped forward, and offered one hand. "Come. You must return to bed. This cannot have helped your wounds. And... Jack, if you need anything..."

**_"Just rest,"_** he said.

"Yes. A man needs his rest. Come." North hauled Jack to his feet. Aster had to let go, but managed to stagger upright on his own. He limped after the pair, and sat down on the edge of Jack's bed. When one of the yetis swooped down on him, he honked in surprise, and then yelped when the medic started examining his hands. The feeling was coming back, and that hurt!

Because he'd managed to tear off a few layers of skin from the pads of his palms and fingers, it looked like, when he'd grabbed Jack's wrists. The Ice Lord cringed, but didn't apologize, once Aster had elbowed him in the stomach.

"I'd do a lot more than just lose some skin to keep you safe," he said, sparking the oddest expression he'd ever seen on Jack's face. Not a bad expression; close kin to the one he'd had right before the kissing, in fact.

Not that he expected there to be any kissing at the moment, not after the emotional breakdown the Ice Lord had just had. Besides, whoever _she_ was that Jack remembered, she'd been... pretty important, clearly.

But Aster could wait. He was old; he knew the meaning of patience.

The medic tried to insist on Aster moving to his own bed, but Jack stopped that before it could go more than a few grumbling words. **_"No,"_** he said, and wrapped an arm around Aster's shoulders. **_"I want him to stay here. With me."_**

The medic held up pretty well under Jack's glare, but braver hearts would've quailed. Once the medics were done with their work, they headed out- to gather a cleaning crew, Aster suspected. Tooth picked up the spilt baby teeth.

"I'll make you a new box," she promised, and poured them into the small bag she'd carried the box in.

North and Sandy stayed a few minutes more, but they too left. Aster leaned to the side, against Jack, and sighed. His hands hurt, his heart hurt, and his thoughts kept turning to pain both old and new.

He wouldn't change a single damn thing.

**_"You should not have touched me,"_** Jack said, and brushed one finger over the back of Aster's hand.

"And let you off yourself?" He shook his head. "No. Never. I don't ever want to see someone I love-" He cut himself off, but a word too late.

Jack's face went blank. **_"Love?"_**

"Yeah." He sighed, and looked away. "For a while now."

**_"For me."_** Jack hooked one finger under Aster's chin, and tugged. When the Pooka was looking at him again, he repeated, **_"For me?"_**

"No, for Loptr. Of course for you, ya bloody galah."

His smile was small, and almost shy. **_"I have lost everything that I am, or was, E. Aster Bunnymund. My mother, my father, my sister... they are all gone now. The world I was born to is gone. And I am a broken shadow of what I once was. Yet, will you stay with me? Help remind me of why I still live?"_**

Aster pressed a hand to Jack's chest. "You should know," he said, "that I have lost everything that I am, or was, Jack Frost. Jackson Overland. My people are all dead, my planet was destroyed, and I am a mere shadow of what I once was. If you will have me, I will stay with you, but in return you must remind me of why I'm still here, and didn't follow my people long ago."

Jack leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against Aster's. **_"Then it would seem we have a deal."_**

Aster hummed in reply, and shifted so he could rest his head against Jack's chest. "So we do." He listed to the Ice Lord's heartbeat for several minutes, and felt him rest his chin between the Pooka's ears. "Jack?"

**_"Mm?"_ **

"Would you... tell me of them? Your family? Or would it hurt too much?"

Jack stroked his hand down Aster's spine, from neck to mid-back. **_"It is the closest you will come to meeting them, is it not? I would... like you to know them. But would you tell me of yours, first?"_**

His family? He hadn't thought about them, really thought about them, for a long time. Just because the wound had scarred over didn't make it stop hurting. But... Jack was right. How else were they to know their in-laws, so to speak? "First thing you should know is that I was raised by my aunt, my father's sister," he said. "My father was a ranger; he was killed in a skirmish when I was about six. My mother couldn't handle the loss, and she killed herself..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I've mentioned this yet or not- but I finished writing the epilogue of Winter Rose... what, a week ago? Final word count (not including end notes)? Less than 40 words under _130,000_. Considering that... I've also figured out a way how to use the Winter Rose plotline in an original story, so that's probably going to happen too. Finally, starting tomorrow I'm going to be looking into where to submit my original novel for, you know, publication, and hopefully not die of panic.
> 
> Here's a hint- if you're considering publishing your novel, panic is inevitable. At least if you're me.


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

It was useless to pretend sleep around a Dream Weaver. Jack opened his eyes, and frowned. Sandy floated before the bed, a tray supported at one side, and a determined look on his face. For the past three days the Guardians had been taking it in turn to try and make him eat. Aster was the only one who'd achieved any success, but Jack had eaten only a few bites.

The problem was the food on offer. Fruits, and some vegetables, could be crushed with the tongue once the outer skin had been pierced. Certain breads and crackers were easy to masticate and turn to mush with his teeth. But those were not the foods he was being offered.

The first meal had included meat. Jack had no issue with meat itself as food, but with Aster right there curled up next to him, it had felt... wrong. After that had come soups and stews fit for a vegetarian, but not for an Ice Lord. Everything was so... chewy, and in chunks too big for him to swallow whole. The few times he had tried- thanks to Aster- it had hurt his throat.

And now Sandy was trying. Jack eyed him warily, and considered showing his teeth the way he had when Tooth had pushed her idea of a proper dinner on him. He would have thought _she_ would figure it out, but apparently not.

The other two Guardians walked in, smiling hopefully at him. Jack growled, but subsided when Aster nuzzled against his side.

"Jack, mate, you _need_ to eat." Aster stared up at him, doing his best to look innocent, or perhaps sad. One or the other. It was working, however much Jack tried to steal himself against it.

**_"I didn't eat for four centuries,"_** he growled, pulling out his main argument yet again. The frequent repetition seemed to have accustomed them to the idea, as no one cringed this time.

"Is no need for you to go hungry now," North said. He gestured at the platter. "Is vegetable pancake, Tooth's recipe!"

"Without the spice, this time," Tooth said. "I'm sorry the first dish was so spicy."

That was not why he had turned it away. Jack glowered at them all, and folded his arms.

Sandy frowned, and waved one hand. Once he had the Ice Lord's attention, he started forming shapes over his head. Jack frowned and did his best to puzzle them out.

**_"No,"_** he finally said. **_"It is not a status symbol."_** He glanced over at Tooth again. **_"I would have thought_ you _, of all people, would realize immediately."_**

"Me?" Tooth pressed a hand to her chest. "Why me?"

**_"Because you keep putting your hands in my mouth."_** Well, not all the time, but enough that he had gotten used to it. **_"Tell me, have you ever seen any_ molars _?"_**

Tooth opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped. "No," she said, slowly. "No, I haven't. Oh! Oh..." She looked at the tray, and winced. "How do you normally eat?"

"And don't say you don't," Aster grumbled. "You ate that fruit platter with me."

**_"Fruit that could be crushed with my tongue, and the vegetables were the same."_** Or the kind that _splintered_ , into sizes small enough it didn't matter. He scowled down at the blankets covering his legs. **_"I did try eating other things. Once. It was messy."_** And he had sworn _never again_ , the entire experiment confirming that chewing without molars was not worth doing. At least he never suffered hunger pangs.

Had he always been able to tap into the belief humans had in winter? Or- siphon off enough to survive, perhaps? If the past three days spent in bed had been good for anything, it was in the time he'd had to pick at his magic. His own, personal store of power had a different... flavor, for lack of a better word, than the power he got from his believers- although that was a difference of a degree, if that- or the power he got from the winter belief, which was in itself different from the ambient power of snow and ice.

All very strange, but he thought he had his personal power separated from everything else now.

The four of them blinked at him. The moment was broken by Sandy, who twisted to look at the tray he carried, and frowned.

Aster sat up straight. Jack pretended he didn't miss the warmth against his side.

Then the rabbit reached forward, and cupped Jack's cheek with one hand. "You know, none of us care if you're a bit messy. Have you seen the elves eat? Now that'd be worrying."

Jack looked away rather than into understanding green eyes. **_"I have my pride,"_** he growled.

For the longest time, it'd been all he'd had.

The Guardians all shared a four-way look. North stepped forward, then sat down in a chair next to the bed. "If messy is all it is, than messy is not the problem you think it is. We have all, at one time or other, made very big messes of ourselves. We have napkins, plenty. And can get more."

Jack frowned at him. **_"You say that now."_**

"I do say. Now and later." North's smile was... very kind. "You need to eat. Healing will be easier with food. And food you don't need to chew will not do well enough. You say you do not feel comfortable eating meat and we can do this, but if you want legs to heal fast you must eat what medics say. And medics say you need more than soup and tea."

They hadn't _offered_ him soup and tea.

He felt Aster shift, and then a warm, furry weight draped over his shoulder and wrapped strong arms around his neck. A slightly moist nose rubbed against his ear. Apparently Aster neither noticed nor cared about the sharp point of Jack's horn, very near to his throat.

Jack was aware. It was why he didn't move, even though it tickled.

"Messy or not," Aster whispered, "It doesn't matter to me. Please."

Beset on all sides. He closed his eyes, the better to pretend- if only for a moment- that he had some control. **_"Oh, very well. I will eat. And don't say I didn't warn you."_**

Everyone grinned, fools that they were, and Sandy presented the tray with a flourish. Jack poked warily at the odd... pancake... before picking up the knife and fork. It took some squinting, and a bit of repositioning of his fingers, before he was sure he had it right. Aster moved back in sheer self defense; he was on Jack's right at the moment, the same hand Jack was using to hold the knife. After a minute, the rabbit got up and moved around to Jack's left, to curl up against that side.

Jack transferred the first bite to his mouth, and- well. As hard as he tried, he kept opening his mouth while he did his best to chew. Mostly that amounted to moving the food around and around his mouth as he tried to keep it between the sharp points of his upper and lower teeth. Mostly to the back of his mouth, where he remembered having molars as a human. Crumbs, and a bit of drool, slopped out. Once he'd gotten the mouthful broken up satisfactorily, he swallowed, and then mopped up the mess with one of the napkins. An old fashioned fabric one, more like a handkerchief, only bigger.

He looked up to glower at the Guardians, but three out of the four were only paying him the barest of attention. One of them had pulled out a deck of cards, but the game they were playing looked more like a guessing game than poker or gin rummy. Only Aster was looking at Jack, and he did not seem to be put off by the mess.

In fact... The rabbit stretched upwards, somehow adding an extra few inches to his height, and pressed a kiss to Jack's chin. Then he pulled back, but not by much, and stared at Jack with his face upturned and- oh. Right.

Jack bowed his head enough, and brushed his lips against Aster's. That, too, was something that had been happening over the past three days. It was quite pleasant, but Jack was reluctant to go much further, with how people kept wandering in and out without warning. Aster seemed to feel the same; certainly, he hadn't pushed.

"You just eat," Aster said, once they'd separated.

Apparently 'just eating' meant that between bites, the rabbit kissed him. He didn't remember _that_ from his human life, but he also wasn't going to complain. And strange as it was, once he started eating, he was reluctant to stop.

He might not have felt hunger, but his stomach seemed to appreciate food all the same. Some tight knot in his gut, that he'd stopped noticing long ago, loosened, and then fell away by the time he finished the pancake. By that time he had gone through several of the napkins, and it had taken an hour in all.

Jack set the knife and fork down on the plate, and then pushed the tray away. **_"There,"_** he said, and reclined back against the pillows. Astonishing how tiring simply _eating_ could be. **_"Is there anything_ else _?"_**

Tooth looked over, and smiled. "Perhaps you'd like a bath?"

Jack scowled, and looked away. **_"Perhaps I would."_**

The rabbit wrapped his arms around Jack's elbow, and chuckled. "Need any help washing your back?"

Considering how long it had been since he'd last bathed- or had the need to- yes, he did. Jack didn't presume to understand why his agreement made Aster look smug or North choke on his drink. Nor did he care to.

He heaved himself up off the bed, and onto legs that ached, but supported his weight. Crumbs tumbled down off his chest, though he'd only get fully clean with the application of water and soap.

**_"So,"_** he grumbled, making clear his opinion of the events by voice if not expression. **_"Where would the nearest bathroom be?"_**

"Feel up to a shower, love, or would you rather a bath?" Aster absently circled around the Ice Lord, something he wouldn't have been able to do if the bathroom didn't have so much space.

He suspected North had built this one new or renovated or something, because he didn't recognize it. The colors weren't North's usual; pale colored wooden planks covered the ceiling and walls, gleaming from the varnish that sealed them from the wet. The floor was tiled in off white, pale blue, and pale green, colors that were mimicked with the free standing sinks, and the tiling in both the shower stall- which was more than big enough for three or four Ice Lords, with elbow room- and the bath- which was big enough for a Pooka to do laps in. A door to one side led to a discreet loo, though he thought Jack was one of those spirits who didn't need that kind of throne.

**_"Bath,"_** Jack said, voice harsh with any number of emotions. Eating in public- eating such messy food in public- had put him out of sorts, and then he'd walked around on his still healing legs. They didn't make wheelchairs for Ice Lords, though he was surprised North hadn't come up with one yet.

"Right. Sit down, there." Aster pointed at the edge of the tub. "Let me do the running around. I suppose we'll have to take the bandages off." At least Jack didn't have any plaster casts on his legs anymore. Otherwise bathing would be a lot harder.

**_"Mm."_** Jack sat, somewhat awkwardly, and picked at his chest wrapping. **_"I suppose there is hot water?"_**

"In North's Workshop?" Aster twisted the hot water tap, and then the cold. "You're joking, right?"

Jack glowered at him until the water began to steam.

"Check the temperature?" He moved away before the Ice Lord could reply, and rummaged through the bottles and jars on the mostly-decorative shelves. Shampoos and conditioners, body washes both liquid and solid, and- hah, the bath oils and salts. "Do you want any of this in the water?" he asked, and held up a jar of salts as example.

**_"What are my options?"_** Jack asked, still sounding somewhat irked but... better, a little.

There were a lot of different options. Jack finally went with bath salts that smelt like pine and ocean, but was unlabeled. Aster sprinkled a generous helping in, and almost winced at the heat coming up from the water. "Bit warm, isn't it?"

**_"A pleasant change from the cold."_ **

Right. Someone was very firmly in the middle of a _mood_. Must have been the walking that did it, or the reminder Tooth had made about the mess. Jack had been unhappy, but not overly cranky, while eating.

Aster liked to think it'd been the kisses that kept him moderately upbeat.

Well, he might as well do what he could to help Jack relax. Aster sat down on Jack's lap, and looped his arms around the Ice Lord's neck. "So," he said. "We're alone, and not like to be disturbed."

Jack frowned at him. **_"What do you mean?"_**

He sighed, and leaned in close. "I mean no one's going to interrupt us. We could get started seeing what feels good, hm?"

This time, Jack tilted his head to the side. **_"I don't get it."_**

Aster's ears drooped, and his head fell forward to thump against Jack's shoulder. "Of course you don't. I- oh, never mind."

**_"No."_** Jack wrapped his hands around Aster's waist, and even if he'd wanted to, there would have been no breaking that grip. **_"Explain."_**

He sighed. "I thought we'd try a bit of necking."

**_"...What about my neck?"_ **

"No, it's- kissing. Only not so... polite. And hands might wander."

**_"Oh."_** Jack appeared to think about it, and then his eyes gleamed. **_"Oh. I_ see _."_**

He glanced to the side. **_"But first you might want to shut off the water, before it overflows and drowns us all."_**

Aster blinked several times. "Was that a joke?"

Jack stared blandly at him. **_"Me? Joke? No, of course not. I had my sense of humor surgically removed when I became the Ice Lord. Everyone knows this."_**

He chuckled, and pecked a kiss to the tip of Jack's nose. "Sure. That's what happened." The water _was_ getting rather high. He turned the taps off, and then helped Jack with the bandages. Kneeling down in front of Jack to unwrap the ones around his calves was... Well, he pressed several kisses to Jack's knees, much to the Ice Lord's confusion.

Jack slid awkwardly into the tub, and then groaned. Aster bit his lower lip. That was a very good sound.

"Hey. Mind seeing if I can get that noise from you without any help?" he asked, and knelt on the side of the tub.

Jack frowned up at him, but his eyes were dancing. It was captivating enough Aster barely noticed the wet hand that caressed his hip- right before Jack pulled, and Aster ended up in the water with him.

He honked, snorted when water got up his nose, and flailed his arms as he tried to sit upright and couldn't. Because his legs were hooked over the side of the tub. And Jack had one arm across his lap, keeping him from pulling away.

"What the- you galah! What'd you do that for?"

**_"This way there won't be any awkward angles,"_** Jack said, trying for innocent. He fell rather short. It was the grin that did it, Aster decided. There was too much sly delight.

"Now I stink like wet fur."

Jack watched him flail for another minute, and then reached over and gathered him close. Aster's feet ended up as soaked as the rest of him, having formerly been the only dry parts of his body, but he couldn't really care once he was curled up against Jack's chest again. Of the past three days, curling up against Jack had to be his favorite part. He'd managed to rub the underside of his chin against Jack's shoulders more than a few times, marking him with a scent that'd take more than a little water and soap to wash off. Not proper chinning by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to whet his appetite for more.

**_"So,"_** Jack said, his hands wandering back down to Aster's hips. **_"You said something about kissing?"_**

"Oh," Aster said, and leaned closer. "I'm sure I did. Refresh my memory?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, enjoy this brief pause before things get crazy. Also, yes, it's very hard to chew if you don't have molars... messy is the least of it. Thankfully, mine grew back, but can we skip the whole 'wisdom teeth out, pain in jaw for several days after' from now on? Thank you.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

Jack opened the fortress doors with a gesture, and then strode in. His legs still ached faintly, but the pain was distant. He would not be running any marathons for a while, but nor would he limp. In a few weeks time even the last, lingering ache would vanish. Spirits, unlike humans, could heal _completely_ , given enough time. Even scars faded, though his had yet to show any noticeable difference.

Not that Aster seemed to care. He smirked, rather smugly. The rabbit had taken to tracing each scar with both fingers and tongue whenever they were in private, and while it had been surprising at first, he'd quickly discovered the appeal to the contact. A pity he couldn't return the favor, but there was too much fur in the way.

"My lord!" Loptr ran up to him. Jack reached down to pick the ice wyrm up, and then shifted him to one shoulder. "Something strange has happened to the seasons!"

**_"I imagine it has. Mother Nature is dead."_ **

"Dead?" The ice worm nearly fell off his shoulder in shock. "How can she be dead?"

Jack showed his teeth, every last jagged point. **_"She threatened the Guardians, my friends, and would not stop for less than lethal force."_** He'd finally accepted that, and the fact infuriated him instead of making him grieve, as it had only days earlier. **_"Given the choice between my friends or her..."_** He shrugged the shoulder Loptr wasn't balanced on.

"Indeed. Well. That explains much, my lord. Were you hurt very badly?"

**_"I discovered a new source of power, prior to obtaining the mantle of winter from Mother Nature's corpse."_** Or whatever those glowing lights had been. **_"By the same token, Aster received the mantle of spring. I will have you and your sister seek out the new representations of summer and autumn."_**

"That should be interesting."

He hummed in reply, walking the hallways that took him to his throne room. The rose vines were flourishing, he saw, just before a certain rabbit jumped and wrapped around him. Loptr yelped and transported himself to his customary table, managing to look ruffled with scales.

**_"Aster,"_** Jack said, right before the rabbit kissed him. He held Aster close, supporting his weight easily, and walked over to the throne. Sitting down only required a minor adjustment of Aster's limbs, so that Jack didn't crush his legs or feet. After several minutes of extremely enjoyable kissing, complete with hands wandering across shoulders, arms, and backs, Jack was the first to pull away. Aster stretched up against him, but they were both breathing hard.

**_"You kissed me goodbye,"_** he pointed out.

"A _week_ ago."

Ah. Had it been so long? Jack bent his head to nuzzle against one long ear. **_"I was practicing my magic."_**

"Practice is over." Aster tugged, until Jack bowed his head further. And then, for some reason known only to him, he rubbed his chin against Jack's hair.

**_"Do I want to know?"_** He suffered the position as long as he could, before pulling away and straightening up. **_"One can never practice enough."_**

"Never figured you as a control freak." Aster did not sound displeased by the observation.

**_"Careful. I would rather not hurt anyone."_** After a pause, he added, **_"by accident."_**

Instead of an answer, the rabbit pressed an open mouthed kiss to the hollow of Jack's throat. Jack growled, and dug his fingers into Aster's fur, just enough to feel the guard hairs part beneath the pads of his fingers and the faint hint of plush undercoat beneath. Things escalated quickly after that, as they pressed their mouths together. Jack twitched faintly when Aster licked at his lower lip, but he had already learnt the pleasure that could come from sliding tongue against tongue.

The kiss continued, as their kisses tended to, as they switched from kissing each others' mouths to sliding lips against cheek, jaw, and neck. Aster licked as well, though Jack refrained. It wasn't that he minded the feel of fur against his tongue, but that Aster could barely feel the contact. Better to stroke at Aster's sides and back with his hands, and scrape his teeth through his fur and against the skin.

Loptr coughed; Jack ignored the first instance, growled at the second, and finally looked up at the third. **_"What?"_**

Aster leaned back, and managed to look both dazed and smug at once.

"Your pardon, my lord, but there is a matter I fear you must attend to." Loptr glanced aside, towards the globe. "Perhaps it would be best if Aster returned at a later time?"

Jack flexed his fingers against Aster's hip. **_"And why is that?"_**

"Because of the nature of the matter, my lord." Loptr glanced at the globe again. "However, you will do as you see best."

"Maybe I _should_ go," Aster said. He sounded reluctant, and he moved reluctantly when he got off Jack's lap. "I did have plans for the day that amounted to more than snogging you."

**_"Snogging...?"_** Never mind. **_"As you will. Should I..."_** He frowned when Loptr glanced at the globe again, and looked over himself. After a second, he cleared his throat. **_"Ah. That is the matter. I'm sorry, but this will require all my attention."_**

"You owe me a trip to the Congo, then," Aster said. He pressed a final kiss to Jack's forehead, and then headed for the door. Jack summoned an image of him, in the table's surface, and watched until the rabbit vanished into his tunnel.

**_"Very well,"_** he growled, **_"you can stop delaying them now."_**

Loptr sighed with relief, and bowed his head briefly. Jack changed the view in the ice to the front gate, where a small group waited to be let in. The gate swung open, and the portcullis- a tricky bit of magic, that, but worth it- was lifted up out of the way. Several of the group jumped and looked startled; Loptr had been shielding the walls from view with a clever bit of magic, apparently.

The group was urged in through the gates, and then down the appropriate street by strategic gusts of wind. Jack made a quick mental note to himself to arrange for some kind of lighting on the streets; it wasn't so bad at the moment, as the sun occasionally peeked over the horizon, but when the Antarctic night hit there would be months of darkness.

Jack narrowed his eyes at the leader of the group. This was going to be interesting.

Unless...

He didn't smile. That would give things away too quickly. Instead, he settled back on his throne and directed Loptr to see that the group made it to the throne room directly. He dismissed the image in the ice. He sat, elbows braced on the arms of his throne, hands folded in front of his face so his thumbs pressed against his lips, and studied his globe while the small group of winter spirits entered his palace.

"They seem impressed by the work," Loptr observed.

The sound he made was low enough it could only be felt, not heard.

The group arrived in short order. Jack let them look him, and the throne room over, and pretended to ignore them. Of the seven, only one was important: General Winter.

Like North, he was Russian, but there the resemblances ended. While North looked older, with his white hair and long beard, General Winter looked like a young man fresh from a military academy. General Winter wore his uniform with apparent pride, though it was not strictly accurate. The greatcoat should have been dark green, instead of dark blue.

Otherwise, the uniform was accurate, down to the regulation shine of the boots. The coat fell no further than the knee, the trousers were pressed until they had a knife's edge, and the sword belt and baldric gleamed. Jack wasn't certain just what the hat was called, although if anything it looked like a commercial airlines pilot's cap, and it sat squarely on the General's head.

The General's light brown hair was slicked back and trimmed to what Jack suspected was a regulation length, and he was clean shaven. While his eyes were primarily brown, there was a ring of bright silver around both pupils, and there was no warmth to them.

The other six members of the group were divided equally between three males, some kind of forest demon or some such, and three Russian Snow Maidens, who looked as though they might faint if anyone paid too much attention to them. They were relatively low in power, all of them, individually and together. He had to wonder why General Winter had brought them.

Jack took his time in looking up, time that made General Winter annoyed. When the Ice Lord finally turned his attention to the Russian, the man was scowling. It did nothing to improve his appearance.

The Ice Lord stared, unblinking, and waited. He knew a century of being alone, of hearing no voice other than his own and that of his- at the time- insentient creations. General Winter could not claim the same, and so lost patience first.

"Ice Lord. We have been hearing some unsettling rumors of late."

It was sadly easy to set aside the habits of two years, and return to his taciturn ways. **_"Indeed."_**

One of the maidens grabbed onto her sister's arm, as her legs seemed to buckle. The Ice Lord ignored her.

General Winter clenched his jaw, but continued. "Yes. That you had been out and about lately, stalking the Easter Rabbit."

The Ice Lord did not like how the General pronounced the word 'rabbit'. His eyes narrowed slightly. Instead of replying, he tilted his head back to 'raise' his eyebrows, wordlessly telling the man to get on with it.

The Russian flushed. "And there was something, recently, about winter itself. There was a great shock..." He contrived to look innocent, and spread his hands. "You _are_ our leader; I thought it best to come to you first."

**_"Mother Nature is dead."_ **

"Dead?" The Ice Lord judged General Winter's horrified expression to be genuine. "Dead! But who- ? How?"

The Ice Lord smiled. **_"I killed her."_**

The pause was brief, barely more than the length of a single heartbeat. And then General Winter roared in fury, drawing his sword and attacking in a single movement.

The Ice Lord answered in kind. He stood up and stepped forward. The sword hit his side- and snapped in two, leaving his hide unmarked. While the General boggled at his broken weapon, Jack casually punched him in the mouth. Though he pulled the blow, the man was sent flying back several feet, only to hit the floor and skid further back into the wall.

**_"I had cause,"_** he said, as mildly as he could. It was not much, considering he wanted to follow the first blow with another, and another. General Winter had been a thorn in his side for a long time.

"Cause!" General Winter spat out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. "Cause! What cause that? She- you killed the source of the seasons!"

**_"The individual mantles have gone to the leaders of each season,"_** Jack said. Well, it was so for he and Aster. Presumably it was so for the mantles of summer and autumn. **_"As for cause, the attempted ruination of the balance between all things."_**

General Winter sneered. "If you mean the long awaited extinction of the _humans_ , then-"

**_"I refer to the balance between the seasons, the winds, and the proper time of all things."_** Jack folded his arms. **_"You have your answer now, General; matters have not changed for you. Take yourself and your entourage and go."_**

The man's face flushed dark red. "You think you can just dismiss me, you little puppy? I'll-"

**_"What? Stab me? Your sword is broken."_ **

General Winter went white, then red again. "This is not the end," he snapped, and gestured at his minions. "We'll go, but this is not the last you have seen of me!"

**_"Unfortunately,"_** Jack muttered. He returned to his throne, and watched through the ice until he was certain General Winter had gone, his minions with him. He dismissed the view, and sat back with a sigh.

Now what? He eyed the globe, but apart from General Winter's visit, all appeared to be going well. There had been no change in the weather patterns, for which he would be eternally grateful. Even Dominica had shrugged off his blizzard, and freezing of the Boiling Lake.

It was very tempting to travel to the Warren and surprise Aster. He had a feeling the overgrown rabbit would be enthusiastic in his delight. Jack shifted on the throne, considering it. He had been neglecting his duties slightly, of late, as he learnt the new facets of his magic. Perhaps it would be better if he stayed and kept an eye on things.

Yet, what was there to keep an eye _on_? He pushed up off his throne. **_"Loptr. Watch the globe. I will be in the Warren."_**

The ice wyrm chuckled. "Of course, my lord. I shall let Katya know."

Between one breath and the next, Jack transported himself from his fortress to Aster's Warren.

The rabbit was, indeed, pleased to see Jack all unexpectedly.

Jack gestured at the music player, and relaxed as the familiar sounds of his favorite songs filled the room. It was a rare day that Peter Hollens could not sooth him.

He needed to do research, and the very nature of the research made him feel... irritable, at best. He was certain the whole matter could be laid at Aster's door. Jack had never felt so unsettled before the rabbit had begun his- his campaign to drive Jack insane!

It was not just the casual touching, or the kissing. That at least he understood, from watching humans so long. Such things were signs of affection, not meant for casual friends. And while it was gratifying to know how highly Aster thought of him, without having to bring clumsy words into play, it was also... confusing.

Jack had never paid much attention to adult pairs before. He knew that mothers and fathers kissed each other- as was only to be expected! Such a relationship was by necessity a close one. An affectionate relationship was only right and proper. But beyond that he hadn't paid much attention; as a younger spirit he'd been more interested in getting children to play with him than what grown adults were doing when the children were away.

He huffed, and moved over to his medical texts. He had little hope that he would find anything in there. His symptoms were vague at best, and mostly tied to emotion. Yet there were physical components as well; sweating palms- and he did not _sweat_ \- and a racing heartbeat. His gut also felt strangely tight, all the way down into his groin, particularly when Aster was straddling his lap, or when Jack even _thought_ about Aster straddling his lap.

He scowled down at the area covered by his loincloth, and then banished the memory from his mind. Now was not the time. Although most of his symptoms did occur when around the rabbit, or thinking of him. Highly annoying, and somewhat worrying. Was he allergic?

**_"I had better not be,"_** he growled, and selected the first medical text.

He was well into his third text- the first two had been spectacularly useless, and the third was shaping up to be much the same- when Katya interrupted him. He eyed her sidelong, annoyed and grateful at the interruption. Peter Hollen's spectacular voice or not, he'd been giving serious thought to throwing the book at the wall.

**_"Yes?"_ **

Katya clacked her beak once, and flipped her wings to settle the feathers. "Tooth's come visiting. Should I tell her you're busy and to come back later?"

Jack scowled down at his book, and set it aside. **_"I was getting nowhere in my research anyways. Send her in."_**

"Here?" Katya spread one wing, akin to a human gesturing at her surroundings. "In your library?"

**_"Why not? It is better suited to company than anywhere else."_ **

Katya smiled. "Very well. I'll go guide her in."

Personally, it seemed; not too long after she left, he heard Katya and Tooth approaching down the hallway. They were talking quietly, voices low enough he could only pick up traces of emotion. Amusement, mostly. He focused rather more than necessary on shelving his books.

"Jack! I love what you've done with the place, but how did you get it all done so quickly?"

He turned around, just in time to catch Tooth's hands. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, but it was over quickly. Jack didn't know whether he should be confused or not. He did remember the gesture from earlier times, and it was one meant for between friends, but he felt none of the odd pleasure he got from kissing Aster. He hoped she wasn't upset he didn't reciprocate.

**_"I am a master of ice,"_** he reminded her. **_"The only difficulty was in finding the shelves, and that was done not long after I became the Ice Lord."_** Some large warehouse for books had closed down, and the shelving had been wood instead of metal. In retrospect, he had to wonder if he hadn't gotten the shelving from a furniture warehouse.

"Well, it's very lovely. What have you been doing recently?"

Jack frowned as Tooth flitted about. She had a satchel slung over one shoulder, and a short sword on a belt against her hip. **_"Are you expecting trouble?"_**

She blinked, and then looked down at the sword. "What, this? No. I'm just nervy, I guess. Getting caught by Pitch..." She shivered, either with remembered fear or rage, and scowled. "Next time I want to do more than just yell, you know?"

**_"I see."_** He wasn't sure he did. **_"Well, sit down, make yourself comfortable."_**

Tooth perched on a couch arm, rather than sitting properly on the cushions. Jack had resigned himself to the small fact that only he and North used seating properly- and he wasn't at all sure about North. Sandy preferred to float, either in midair or on a small cloud of his sand, Aster liked to drape himself over Jack's throne, and Tooth preferred to perch.

"Join me?" she asked, and gestured to the couch cushions.

**_"Very well."_** He sat down, not at all deliberately or trying to show her how to properly sit on a couch. **_"I have no refreshments to offer..."_**

"That's alright, I didn't come for the food." She smiled, so he knew it was meant to be a joke. "Please tell me if I'm being forward, but... how are you and Bunny doing?"

How was that forward? **_"We are well. Why?"_**

For a second, he thought she was going to start squealing, like several of the young Burgess girls were inclined to when excited. "The two of you were kissing! Have you done more of that? Or- gone further? Oh, I'm so happy for you both!"

Jack blinked several times. **_"You wish to know about my relationship with Aster?"_**

"Oh, yes!" Tooth leaned forward, wings all but buzzing so she did not topple over. "And give advice, because it's been a long time for both of you, I'm sure-"

**_"Never."_ **

She pulled up short. "Never? Never what?"

He shrugged one shoulder. **_"I have never had a relationship like this before. Friendships, a few,"_** though only as a mortal human, **_"but nothing... more. And this seems like more?"_**

Tooth blinked, and then nodded. "Between you and Bunny? Absolutely. You love him after all, don't you?"

Well, yes. **_"Aster is my favorite."_** He paused, and added, **_"I hope you are not hurt by that."_**

"Of course not! And I should think that he is, with how handsy you two were." She grinned, and patted his shoulder. "Since this is your first relationship-"

**_"A moment. Handsy?"_ **

"You touch each other a lot. And kiss a lot."

**_"Oh, yes. Although..."_** Jack tilted his head to the side. **_"May I ask you a question?"_**

"Of course. That's why I stopped by."

**_"I think I'm becoming allergic to Aster."_ **

Tooth opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped. She gave him an odd look. "Allergic... to Bunny?"

**_"I was looking through my medical texts, but so far have found nothing worthwhile. When we are near, I begin to feel... strange. My heart races and I actually sweat, to say nothing of my gut."_** He frowned at Tooth. **_"Was that too much information?"_**

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, no it wasn't. Jack, did your father ever... tell you about men and women? And where babies come from?"

**_"You saw my memories. Didn't you?"_ **

"Not in very much detail."

Ah. **_"My father told me that everything I needed to know, I could see in the sheep. He was a shepherd. Men were like rams, and women were like ewes, and lambs- babies- came after nine months. Why?"_**

"That is the worst explanation I've ever heard," Tooth said. "Ever."

Jack scowled at her.

"Okay." She took several deep breaths. "Okay. I'm going to assume you and Bunny haven't gone beyond kissing, right?" He nodded, still scowling. "Right then.

"Jack, those things you feel- the racing heartbeat and funny feeling in your stomach? That's all normal. It's, well, it's part of being aroused."

"Aroused, like-" He paused, suddenly remembering an incident from his youth. "The priest said that was improper!" His cheeks felt very cold of a sudden.

"What, getting an erection?"

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. " ** _He said masturbation was a sin and if any of us tried it, we would be shunned by God."_** Several of the other boys had done it, he knew, but Jack had never been all that interested. Occasionally he'd woken up with his horn erect- he must have done his best to forget that- but ignoring it had made it go limp again. In retrospect, those awkward awakenings had felt very similar to how he felt now, with Aster.

"Actually, masturbating is good for your health. It's probably in one of your textbooks here... Never mind." Tooth pulled a small book out of her satchel. "Jack, I'm going to help you. I'm going to explain sex, and love, and how you and Bunny can make each other feel good."

Then she opened the book to the first page, beginning the most informative afternoon Jack could remember.

The lesson progressed quickly once Jack got over his original belief, that the pleasure of sex was a form of sin unless between a husband and wife. Tooth also got annoyed when he referenced sheep, but it _had_ been his original frame of reference. She also got annoyed when he pointed out some of the positions depicted in the book were very like a ram and ewe, but he slowly began to understand.

"Of course, this part doesn't really apply to you," Tooth said. "Since you and Bunny are both male."

**_"How does that even work, anyways?"_** Jack asked. He imagined it would be easy enough to use his mouth or hands on Aster's horn, to give him pleasure, and easy enough for the rabbit to return the favor. But Tooth seemed to imply that mounting was still possible between two males.

Mind, whenever he thought the word 'mounting', he couldn't help but think of the farm animals he'd seen in the middle of sexual congress.

Tooth told him. Jack about died of embarrassment.

**_"I put it_ where _?"_**

The explanation did not get much better after that. There was talk of lubricant- oil or lotion to make things slippery, as males required such assistance in their congress- and stretching and Jack's face was covered in ice by the time Tooth was finished.

"I'll bring you some books," she promised, when they finished the talk. "Don't worry Jack. You'll get used to the idea."

**_"But..."_** He rubbed at his cheeks; the ice reformed quickly. **_"But how am I supposed to look him in the face after...?"_**

Tooth smirked, and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure Bunny won't mind if you stare at his ass."

**_"Get out,"_** he growled. **_"Go! And take your theories with you!"_**

She laughed as she flew out of the library. Jack sighed, and cradled his head in his hands. Well, now he knew what was wrong with him. And what Aster was looking to move things towards. And awkward as it all sounded- how could anyone feel good or comfortable with someone's horn up their... anyways...

He couldn't help but feel a stirring of interest all the same.

**_"I'm doomed,"_** he growled, and turned to his small selection of romance books. He had a feeling things would start to make more sense if he read them over with his new knowledge. He didn't know nearly enough, and he needed to learn quickly. Aster would remain patient only for so long.

He pulled down the first book. Time to get started, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey, update! Plot is moved, Jack is given the Talk (and his father epically failed, apparently...) and research, Jack. Research sex. Not awkward at all.
> 
> In other news, I've sent off my manuscript and won't know yea or nae for at least three months. And I have a two month contract job, so it's a good thing I like buffer chapters. While Winter Rose is being posted, I'm working on both Rise of the Assassins, my new trilogy, and Moonlight and Shadow.
> 
> Yes. Assassin Jack, and Ghost Jack, you are going to meet the world in... February. Woohoo!


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

Aster growled a little under his breath. The entire world, spirit and mortal, had held its breath for weeks after Mother Nature's death. Of all the spirits, those of winter settled down the fastest. Aster blamed Jack's rule for that; Jack, in turn, blamed his subjects' natures. Most of them liked the idea of chaos, so long as it was of the frozen kind.

Summer and autumn settled down as well, under the new leadership of Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess. The autumn leadership, or mantle as they were calling it now, had apparently gone to Qiu Da Shen, one of China's eight generals, once worshiped as that region's autumn god. The position had fit. Aster had spoken with both of them briefly, once Jack had noted who seemed to have what, if only to let them each know who had spring and winter. They had been nice folks, if a touch standoffish. He blamed the Easter Bunny's popularity compared to them, for that.

Spring spirits were the mildest of them all, and with everyone else calmed down, they settled as well. There was some hair tossing when a few dryads and fauns discovered just who they'd be listening to- mostly those who'd been harassing Aster previously to see his personal artwork- but that was all.

By autumn, things had gotten to the point that it seemed Mother Nature was still around, just missing. Everything was going just as it was supposed to; better, even. The transition of the seasons went smoothly, and in other circumstances he might have worried it'd been too easy.

However, he couldn't be bothered with that. Jack was driving him up a wall!

Things had been going so _well_! And now... Oh, it was frustrating. Every attempt to kiss Jack was met with a lifted chin and smirk. Hugs were kept short and not nearly sweet enough. The Ice Lord seemed perpetually busy, too busy to spend more than an hour in Aster's company at a time. They were going days between visits now, and he didn't think it was because Jack had lost interest in him.

He'd spoken with Tooth, who'd broken down _laughing_ of all things. "He must still be doing... research," she'd said, once she'd gotten under control.

Research? Research into _what_ , he wanted to know! Just _what_ would make Jack back off from... from the very enjoyable, increasing level of intimacy they'd been working towards?

As autumn turned towards winter, Jack relented a touch- enough that they spent entire afternoons together, either reading in Jack's library or relaxing in the Warren. Aster did offer to help Jack with his research, but that just made the Ice Lord choke and wave the offer off.

"This is something I am better off looking into alone, at least at first. When I am ready for assistance, you will be the first to know," Jack had said, looking uneasy.

Frustrating. Highly frustrating. It left Aster with far too much free time on his hands to devote to worry.

They attended North's Thanksgiving party together. That was satisfying, actually, as apart from the dinner the two of them retreated to a balcony. Jack kept Aster warm, both by sending the wind to blow elsewhere, and wrapping his arms around the Pooka's shoulders. Nothing more, alas, no matter how persuasive Aster was.

He stopped pacing back and forth, and stared out over the egg fields, shoulders slumped. "Maybe he _has_ lost interest." It didn't feel right, but what else could it be? Jack just... wasn't interested in anything physical.

He'd talk to Jack about it after the party. North always insisted New Years be rung in with plenty of alcohol, to try and hide the fact that, thanks to the different time zones, half the world would be in a new year while the other half, technically, would still be in the old. By the time any bells were rung the nitpickers would be too drunk to notice, or care.

Yes, he'd do that. Once the guests were all unconscious or chivvied off, he'd corner the Ice Lord somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted, and get an answer once and for all.

Now. It was a party. It was alright to go to Thanksgiving wearing his good gear, but for New Years he really had to step it up a bit. What had he done with his service coat? He could fancy it up a bit, patch up the hole, re-dye it so the color popped again...

Jack seemed to have gotten used to Aster wandering around the fortress without his coat and boots. Seeing the Pooka in clothes again, so to speak, might give the Ice Lord the nudge he needed.

Jack sipped at his drink. The New Year's party was nothing like Thanksgiving. For one, he had been all but forbidden from sneaking out to a secluded balcony. For another, there was a great deal by way of finger foods, things that even he could eat, and a great deal of alcoholic drink. A few of the punch bowls had been left 'virgin', on pain of Phil's lecturing, but the rest was quite potent. The party had been underway only for two, close to three hours, and already people were starting to show signs of intoxication.

Not any of the Guardians, fortunately for Jack's state of mind, and not the Ice Lord himself. Though he had been drinking as heavily as the most intoxicated of spirits, it seemed alcohol did not affect him. Or it took greater quantities.

It was a good thing, too. If he had not been completely sober, he might have done something unforgivable to the dryad Aster was speaking with.

He finally said goodbye to the wind spirits he was talking to, and headed over to North.

**_"_ Who _is that?"_** he demanded, without so much as a hello.

North raised his eyebrows. "More information would be helpful."

Jack growled, and jerked his chin in Aster's direction. **_"The dryad."_**

"Ah, her? Cass or Kess or Tess, I do not know. Why, you have interest?" North smiled innocently, apparently oblivious to Jack's mood.

**_"No, I am not interested in her."_** He stopped looming over North, and glowered over at the dryad. **_"She keeps touching his arm,"_** he muttered.

"Yes, these things happen." North clapped Jack on the shoulder. He had to reach up to do so. "Perhaps you should drink more, you are unhappy. This is party, you should be dancing! Not playing gargoyle in the corner."

**_"I don't dance."_ **

"A pity. Bunny so enjoys it. Ah well, perhaps he can dance with pretty dryad, yes?"

The idea all but made him see white in rage. Jack shoved his empty cup at North's chest. **_"I think not._ Thank _you, North, for your..._ help _."_**

He stalked around the circumference of the room. The other spirits, however intoxicated, got out of his way. The middle of the room was less crowded, but full of dancers. The couples were all dancing differently; there were waltzes of all kinds, in one corner was what appeared to be a mosh pit, and in another a country line dance, though no one could agree on a tempo. One particularly daring woman seemed to be doing a tango, much to the surprise of the man, who looked like he was attempting a fox trot.

Dancing. Bah. Why did Aster enjoy such an activity? It was so... insane.

Finally, he reached Aster, standing near a cluster of ornamental orange trees. The dryad had her feet in one pot, her toes buried in the soil, and was giving Aster an orange, one section at a time. For his part, the rabbit seemed quite comfortable, coat off and standing hipshot, leaning sideways against the nearby table. Despite the plethora of food on the table, the other spirits were giving it a wide berth, considering the crowd.

Jack stepped up until he loomed over the pair, and folded his arms. The dryad noticed him all but immediately, her expression of flirtatious cheer shifting at once to shock and a touch of horror. The tree nearest her rustled its leaves and actually leaned away.

Aster turned around, and smiled when he saw Jack. It was not his usual expression, rather more subdued than that. "Jack! Great timing, I was just talking to Cassandra 'bout the cold front moving down to Greece. Got any insights on that?"

The Ice Lord narrowed his eyes at the dryad. **_"Lady Cassandra,"_** he growled. **_"Forgive me, but no. That is a result of ocean currents. Perhaps a sea spirit would have better information than I."_**

"Oh," she said, and looked away. "Well. It's not terribly urgent, but- yes, you're right. I should go, and- the night will be getting on, and they do like their alcohol, I swear sailors got that from the sea spirits. I should go." She looked down at the half finished orange in her hand, and then all but clutched it to her chest. "I'll just. Go. Now."

Jack rumbled in agreement while she stumbled off, and then turned to look at Aster. **_"How much have you drank?"_** he asked, and plucked the punch cup from Aster's fingers. He took a careful sniff. _Not_ the 'virgin' stuff.

He paused a moment before setting the cup aside, and eyed the rabbit sidelong. Was Aster...? From what he'd found out, thanks to Tooth and his own forays into books and medical articles, the amount of fumbling two inexperienced lovers would get into would reach painful proportions. He was not at all eager to make a fool of himself. He had not yet decided if it would be better for Aster to be just as foolish, or worse.

"A cup and a half, now," Aster said, and reached for his drink. Jack set it aside out of reach. "Hey! Why'd you run Cassie off, anyways? She was a sweetheart."

**_"What were you talking about?"_** He urged the rabbit away from the table and the trees, towards North. He also resisted the urge to throw Aster over one shoulder and leave the party. That would spawn unsightly rumors and damage the Guardian's reputation.

"Mm? Other than the cold front? Cassie was angling for advice, I think there's a bloke she fancies. An idiot if you asked me, apparently he hasn't noticed her."

And idiot indeed. Jack stifled a growl, and managed to herd Aster over to North. The two Guardians began to chat about the latest trend in human belief, something that was currently affecting North's role as Santa more than anything. The man who saw children when they were naughty and nice both had recently gotten an update, or perhaps the myth had regressed. Now, he also warred with the Krampus, the child stealing monster that hunted naughty children. North was delighted.

"Finally," he kept saying, "they remember I am warrior too!"

Once he was satisfied the other spirits would leave the rabbit alone, Jack excused himself and got the three of them drinks of the non-alcoholic punch. When he returned, North was gone, and a young man, apparently of summer, was talking with Aster. Jack gave him one of the drinks of punch and glared until he left.

"You're never going to make more friends if you don't talk to people," Aster pointed out.

**_"I already know everyone I care to."_ **

Aster sighed. "Don't be like that, mate..."

The next time Jack left to get food, he came back and found three Irish elves cooing over Aster's ears. They also left when glared at enough, and Aster didn't protest their departure.

"Y'know what the main problem is?" he asked, and studied a square of bread and vegetables. "All the lasses that think I'm like any tame bunny. They just don't think before they try to cuddle. I'm not a rabbit, I'm a Pooka, and I like my space, thanks!" He leaned sideways against Jack.

Jack huffed, and gave him another square of bread.

It was worse when Aster went off on his own. Fauns, a triton, several warrior types of no particular season, an entire cluster of- he didn't even know what they were, beyond female and giggly- all insisted on delaying the rabbit's trips to the punch bowl, or the food tables, or the other Guardians. More than once, Jack gave mental thanks he was so intimidating. There were very few of the spirits who seemed inclined to challenge him. Those that did, such as the warriors, tended to back down very quickly when Jack dropped the ambient temperature.

"Is it too warm in here?" Aster asked. "If you're getting too warm, we'll talk to North. No need for you to play air conditioner for us all."

**_"A breath of fresh air would not be unwelcome. Keep me company over by the doors?"_** He had been forbidden from going out on the balcony, not from standing near the open doors. The air was colder there, and it was the only space reliably free of other spirits.

"Of course. Want any more punch?"

**_"Thank you, no."_** The last three cups had been alcoholic.

"Well, I might as well get another cup. Hold on a tick, I'll be right back."

Jack looked over at the nearest drinks table, and almost snarled. There were several spirits lurking nearby, clearly waiting for the rabbit to come by. He had to prevent that.

**_"Would you like to dance, instead?"_** he asked. North had said Aster liked dancing. Perhaps that would keep him away from the other spirits.

"Dance?" Aster frowned. "Like them?" He gestured towards the center of the room, where things had gotten more crowded and confusing, thanks to the later hour and steady ingestion of alcohol.

**_"Perhaps not over there."_** He thought he saw a chorus line, complete with high kicks. Or perhaps it was the traditional Russian dancing, he thought he saw North in the group. **_"There is plenty of room right here, and we can hear the music, such as it is."_** Mussorgsky just wasn't good dancing music, really.

"Well. I suppose we could take a turn or two?" Aster stepped closer. "If you really want?"

**_"I would enjoy that."_** Jack held out one hand. Aster took it. Going off several half-remembered dances from the Victorian era, he wrapped one hand around the rabbit's back, so his palm rested just above the fluffy tail. His other hand cupped Aster's shoulder, seeming to cover half of his upper back. Aster didn't seem to find anything wrong with his stance, and rested his hands on Jack's shoulders. They stood close enough together that Jack could feel the rabbit's warmth against his front.

They shuffled in an awkward circle before getting the hang of it, mostly staying in one place as they spun. Once he discovered he didn't have to watch for Aster's toes- between his hooves and Aster walking digitigrade, they didn't have to worry about stepping on each other's feet- he relaxed and even began to enjoy the experience. It was pleasant, being able to politely stand so close to the rabbit.

He glared at the other spirits when they came into view, and flexed his hand against the small of Aster's back. They quickly found other places to look or go, leaving the two of them alone.

There, that was settled. And perhaps he could urge Aster to leave the party early with him. Shortly the company would be too drunk to stand; there would be no entertainment in it.

"So quiet," Aster teased.

Jack tipped his head back to raise his eyebrows. **_"I was wondering what language 'Pooka' was from."_**

Well, it made a good excuse for his silence, at least. Better than saying 'I was too busy promising death with my eyes at those spirits who kept trying to flirt with you.' Aster would not appreciate the sentiment.

"Pooka...? Ah. Yeah. It's... It's not in any earth language."

**_"It is not?"_** Jack tugged Aster a bit closer, and glared at one Banshee that did not seem inclined to back off. A quick gust of near-frozen wind sent her away, though.

"You remember I mentioned I'm old?" Aster waited for him to nod. "I'm actually older than the planet. Like Sandy. Pooka... Pooka was the name of my species, before they were... killed off."

Jack flexed his fingers against the downy fur. **_"Killed off,"_** he said, mildly. Not mildly enough, apparently, because Aster winced. **_"Who did such a feat, and where might I find them?"_**

"Pitch." Aster looked down, until he was staring at Jack's chest. "And we can't kill him anymore, because he's tied to the children's fear. If he goes, it'll threaten the balance."

Ah, now that he could help with. **_"Forget so soon? Mother Nature is dead, and we are the balance. There are many spirits of fear, who have been forgotten of late. I expect any number of them would be delighted to become the Boogieman."_** He smiled, showing his teeth to their fullest. If it also made one river nymph squeak and scramble away, so much the better.

The rabbit's- the Pooka's- ears twitched forwards. "I had forgotten. That... has promise. Don't tell the others, yet? They might not think on it so kindly."

He doubted it, but they would have to plan and plot, and find a spirit of restraint and sanity willing to take the mantle of Nightmare King from Pitch. Such would take time, but they were spirits. They had plenty of _that_.

"Jack?"

**_"Mm?"_** Really, the dancing was _quite_ nice, but he was quite ready to stop.

"You sure you don't mind my age? One thing to know I can remember mountains forming, another to know that I'm-"

**_"Senile?"_** he suggested, and risked leaning down to nuzzle against one long ear. Aster shivered and pressed up against him. Oh, he had _missed_ this. But he'd needed to _know_ what he was going to do, first. **_"It changes nothing of your personality, or how I think of you."_**

"Then why've you backed off, then?"

Ah, so the punch had affected him somewhat. The one did not have much to do with the other. **_"Perhaps that is something best spoken of in private."_**

"If we don't talk about it now, we never will. Will we?"

He did not sigh with relief, though he wanted to. A good reason to leave, now. **_"I will explain. Just..."_** He looked over at the crowd. **_"Come back to the fortress with me? It will be private enough there."_**

"Alright. No need to say goodbye to North, he'll be three sheets to the wind now," the Pooka said. He headed for the open doors. "C'mon then."

**_"Do you not want your coat?"_ **

"You'll keep me warm."

So he would. Jack wrapped one arm around Aster's shoulders and pulled him close. Once his hoof touched snow, he gave the mental wrench that transported them both to his fortress, just outside the library doors.

**_"Come in,"_** he said, and waved Aster into the warmth and light of his favorite room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the updated end notes in the first chapter for the prompt that inspired this chapter.
> 
> Also- Jack, jealousy is not a good... I lie. It is a good look for you. Keep it up and mark your territory!


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

Aster moved over to the most-used couch in the room, and found the small, stuffed rabbit. He picked it up. "What's this then?"

He felt Jack move up behind him. **_"A gift,"_** he said, voice rumbling all through Aster. **_"I was two years on the nice list, before."_**

Before the years of being alone had worn at him. Aster pressed back into Jack's warmth, but didn't look away from the stuffed version of himself. Jack reached around him, and touched one finger to the stuffed animal's head.

 ** _"North gave me the cloak,"_** he murmured, **_"and then he gave me this. I had asked, you see, when I was quite young... for a bunny that would not run away from me..._ Bunny _."_**

"I don't think North can do anything about emotions," Aster said, and finally set the stuffed animal aside.

 ** _"No."_** Jack wrapped his hands about Aster's waist. **_"But you're not running."_**

"Not away," he agreed. He shook, once, and caught Jack's arm. "What're you heading towards with this?"

He felt Jack press his lips against the base of one long ear. **_"I have finished my research,"_** he rumbled, voice somehow getting even _deeper_. He nuzzled his blunt nose against Aster's ear. **_"And I thought I would share my findings."_**

He didn't mean it that way. Aster pulled free, and turned to look up at Jack. "You- you spent the past few weeks pushing me away, mate, you think I'm going to just lie down for you now?"

The Ice Lord smirked, then caught one arm around Aster's back and pulled. They fell onto the couch, Aster pinned under Jack's bulk. He honked, and squealed, and pushed futilely at Jack's shoulders.

"Off," he snapped.

If anything, Jack just looked smug. **_"No."_**

"Bastard."

Jack rolled his eyes back in a show of deep thought. **_"Probably. Technically. Does it count if my parents were married a full month before my birth?"_**

Idiot. Aster snarled, pushed at Jack again, and then did his best to fold his arms and pretend he was somewhere else. Although that was very difficult, with Jack's thigh shifting between his legs, and the wide expanse of Jack's chest all but in front of his face.

**_"Aster."_ **

Well, he wasn't that angry. He looked up, and frowned. Jack looked amused, but also resigned.

 ** _"You silly rabbit,"_** the Ice Lord murmured, before pressing his lips against Aster's nose. **_"My father never told me of..."_** His cheeks frosted over in a blush. **_"Of the ways of a man and a woman. And I don't think he knew of the- the ways of a man with another man. And after... I never paid attention to what people did between the sheets."_**

Oh. Aster pressed one hand against Jack's cheek. "That's what you've been researching?" he paused, and frowned. "How?"

**_"Tooth helped. She told me, ah, how things would... go. And then, well, I do have a number of medical texts and... other books."_ **

He smirked. " _Other_ books, mate?"

Jack growled, the sound vibrating through the both of them. Aster pressed up against Jack's chest, eyes half-closed. He stopped when Jack laughed at him.

 ** _"I might have borrowed a historical romance or two from North. The ones in my library are all tame things with the sex happening out of sight."_** Jack traced his fingers along Aster's side, the points of his claws slipping easily through the fur. **_"I could hurt you,"_** he whispered.

Aster frowned, and wrapped his arms around the Ice Lord's neck. "If I didn't like you so much, I'd make a comment about the size a' your neck affecting the quality of your brain," he grumbled. Jack looked confused. "I'm no fragile flower, you idiot. I've survived _two_ Fearling wars, a bloody vicious running battle from my old galaxy to this planet, orbital bombardment, millions upon _billions_ of years alone before the first single-cell organisms started floating around... Not to _mention_ all the chaos humans can cause on their own bloody lonesome. And you're worried, what, you might give me bruises?"

He lifted his head until he was nose to nose with the great idiot. "Maybe," he said, doing his best to sound sultry, "I wouldn't mind a few bruises."

His hip went cold, painfully so, and Jack snarled down at him. **_"Bruises would be the_ least _of your worries."_** His snarl faded, and he stroked the ice from Aster's hip. **_"I don't... You're my favorite, you know. Always have been. I don't... Perhaps you are... But I don't like the thought."_**

Incoherent, but touching. Aster pulled, until Jack's weight pressed into him. "You don't have to worry, mate," he whispered. "You don't. I trust you."

Jack hummed in reply, and pressed his lips against Aster's. The kiss stayed chaste, for all of three seconds. Then Aster licked at the seam of Jack's lips, Jack licked back, and then the blood quickly drained from Aster's head and pooled in his groin.

He clawed desperately at Jack's back, and then shouted into the kiss when he felt clever fingers leave off tracing his hip and move to the junction of his legs. Pooka hadn't ever been obvious, like others, when it came to their sheath and scrotum; the longer fur covering the stomach and thighs had always been enough to hide such things from polite society. Clothing had been a matter of status and style, not necessity.

So it took Jack a moment or two to find what he was looking for, his fumbling touches sending a thrill up and down Aster's spine.

"Ah, Jack-"

 ** _"Hush."_** Jack traced the tips of his fingers over Aster's sheath. **_"What do you think my research was about? Fisheries?"_** And then he pressed the pad of his thumb to the opening of Aster's sheath, where he was starting to peek out-

Aster's vision went white.

He gasped for breath, and realized he was yanking on Jack's horns in time to- to-

El-Ahrairah have mercy, but Jack knew what he was doing with his fingers.

Jack growled, and stroked his thumb over the tip of Aster's prick, back and forth, in steady rhythm. His fingers were tight, warm bands around the shaft, squeezing and releasing faintly. It was strangely compelling. Aster tried to thrust into Jack's grip, but he could barely twitch. Jack's other arm was a solid bar across the top of his thighs, and kept him mostly immobile.

Jack looked up at him from under his brows, and grinned. Then he blew on Aster's prick.

It was cold, and the hand was warm, and Aster shouted when he came.

He caught his breath quickly enough, to the sound of Jack's quiet laughter and the feel of gentle hands petting his hips.

"That... ah, that what you were researching?" he asked, and looked up at the Ice Lord.

Jack looked like the cat who'd gotten canary, tuna, and cream; sly, pleased, and a touch surprised at his good luck, but hiding it well. **_"Somewhat. The mechanics, at least."_**

Aster looked down at Jack's lap. Was the front of the loincloth bulging a touch? He sat up, and fumbled at the ties. "Off," he said.

 ** _"What?"_** Jack snatched at Aster's hands, but never quite caught them. **_"Why?"_**

"Because I want to _touch_ you," he hissed, and tried for the ties again.

Jack caught one hand, and cupped Aster's cheek with his other. **_"You are touching me,"_** he murmured.

"Don't be daft. Now get that thing off!"

Jack rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. The loincloth not only had to be untied, but unwrapped, and Aster licked his lips absently as Jack was revealed fully. The blue fur covered only to the top of Jack's thighs, he realized; it stopped where thigh joined hip. Instead of short, blue curls, the hair at the base of Jack's cock was white, and almost silken to the touch.

At least, that was Aster's opinion, and he was sticking to it.

The cock itself was fully erect, as pale as the rest of Jack, but tinged faintly purple. Aster traced one finger over a visible vein, from the flared tip down to the base, and ground his teeth together in a purr. Not _quite_ as big as he'd envisioned; the difference between a two-handed sword and a hand and a half sword. Still, plenty big. He licked his lips again, and looked up at Jack.

Who was blushing, so much his hair was lightly dusted with white flecks. **_"I- you- touch,"_** he stammered, before pressing his lips together and blushing harder.

"Research," Aster said, quite amused, and wrapped his hand around the base of Jack's cock.

Jack yelled, and his hips thrust upward against Aster's grip. He subsided after that, holding still while Aster stroked his hand up and down against the thick shaft, and circled his thumb around the head. Pre-come began to bead up from the tiny slit at the top, and after a momentary debate with himself, he bowed his head and licked at it.

Faintly salty, a touch bitter, and the scent was of musk. While it might never become his _favorite_ taste- lie, he was sure it would- Jack's seed would certainly never make him gag.

With that thought in mind, he bent his neck again and began to suckle on the tip. He peeked up at Jack.

The Ice Lord looked rapturous, eyes clenched shut and face twisted into pleasure. He gasped, short, sharp breaths through his nose, not quite snorting. Tendons and veins stood out in his neck and shoulders, and down his arms, to where his hands were clenched on the couch cushions.

Jack didn't last very long at all, which was only to be expected. Several minutes after Aster started, Jack stiffened further- he hadn't been aware that was possible- and one hand groped for Aster's shoulder. And then Jack hissed, face twisting further, and Aster was swallowing as much of Jack's seed as he could. He licked at Jack's softening cock to clean it, before he was pulled against Jack's chest.

 ** _"You,"_** Jack said, and pressed his face into the crook of Aster's neck.

Aster felt his prick stir in his sheath, just a bit, when Jack pressed him back down onto the couch. But the Ice Lord seemed more concerned about getting them arranged for comfort, until he was curled up, half on his side, arms wrapped around Aster's torso and head pillowed on the Pooka's chest.

He was asleep.

Aster traced his fingers over Jack's cheek, and smiled faintly. Well, this wasn't a round two, three, or six, but he wasn't about to complain. Not one bit. And who knew what would happen in the morning?

He rubbed his chin against Jack's hair, and closed his eyes.

When he woke up, it was morning, and Jack was mouthing his neck.

He could get used to that.

Jack sat with his elbows on the arms of his throne, chin propped up on his folded hands. He stared at his globe without seeing it, his attention more on the events of the last few days. According to his research, the physical and emotional euphoria that came from sex and orgasm could and did make people... say things they didn't mean, later. Which was why he had disregarded Aster's moaning, though as it was mostly incoherent that wasn't much of a difficulty. Yet he'd thought he'd heard the lagomorph mention _love_ -

But no, it was too soon yet for that. Surely. Aster was fond of Jack, that was clear enough, but one did not require _love_ for _sex_. He could wait. Old as the lagomorph was, he did not seem to have the patience the Ice Lord did. The patience Jack had learnt, as he struggled and fought to survive. He might have cracked a few times, but he never had succeeded in taking his own life, and clearly some part of him had still wanted to live, even through the worst of the despair.

Not that any of it had relevance now. Aster was quite tolerant of Jack's fumbling touches, even surprised and impressed at times, he thought. And, in an example of Aster's impatience, he pressed for _more_ , more touches and more kisses and for them to go further every time they got together. Jack had been forced to draw on his will and common sense more than once, though the Ice Lord's resolute demeanor seemed to _encourage_ Aster instead of the opposite.

He chuckled, suddenly, startling himself. Indeed, when Jack pulled on the cloak of the Ice Lord, resolute, a bit distance, with danger leashed and kept close, it seemed to make Aster want to tweak Jack's... tail, and his suggestions-! The things he'd murmured about the throne Jack was sitting on, no less!

The door at the other side of the room cracked open, and Loptr stumped through. His 'at home' body was now quite a bit bigger than the animated statues he controlled, out in the world. No longer was he small enough to curl up on Jack's hand; he was closer in height to a Great Dane, and was as long as the largest crocodiles on record. His colors had become more intense, though no darker.

He claimed the change was simply so no one would think to step on him, but Jack had noticed Loptr reading certain novels. He'd pointed out that the series got trite and rather sad after a certain point, and that Loptr would never be big enough to rival old locomotives. Loptr had sniffed and said that empty chasms dividing the Florida peninsula were in short supply anyways.

 ** _"Loptr,"_** Jack said, twitching one eyelid, and then blinking when a human waif followed through the open door.

No, he realized after some study, not a _human_ waif at all. She had been human, once; all the little match girls had been, before they died, poor souls. She was as ragged as a spirit as she'd been as a human, with tangled, stringy hair that brushed her shoulders, and would surely be longer if anyone could comb it out. Dirt that would never wash off smeared across her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and both hollow cheeks. She had big eyes- a result of both her age and the starvation she had gone through in life- and they were the only hint of color about her, a rich, warm brown, all the more intense against her dirty, near gray skin and colorless hair.

She wore a smock that went down to her knobby knees, but it was sleeveless, and so worn it was barely decent. Only the curling frost patterns gave it any substance. Her arms were thin, and so were her legs, but he could have borne that much if it had not been for the sheer terror in her eyes.

Her appearance had been set by the method of her demise and becoming a spirit. The terror should have left her by now; she was a creature of ice and snow, and while the match girls had a low level of power as such things went, used cleverly that power could protect her from all that came at her. The terror of her life had instead been enforced since her death, and he suspected he knew who was responsible.

Jack controlled his expression with an effort. If he showed the slightest hint of irritation with this child, she would flee and never return. Instead, he did his best to look indifferent. Warmth could come later, when she did not appear ready to faint if he so much as frowned.

 ** _"What is this?"_** he asked, being obvious about turning his attention to Loptr.

Loptr shrugged one set of shoulders. "She brings a message from General Winter," he said, voice neutral. Then, with a quick glance to the child, Loptr added, for Jack's mind alone, _There is a fresh bruise on her cheek, the right size for the General's fist. Should you gut him, I would eat his liver._

Jack let the corner of his mouth twitch faintly, instead of the grim smile he wanted to make. **_"A message?"_** He looked at the child, and nodded. **_"Very well."_**

She stared down at the floor, shaking. He realized she was curtsying only when she straightened up. "Please, sir," she whispered, her voice thin and so quiet he could barely hear her. "The General invites you- to our yearly gathering, sir. We all meet every year, just- just us winter spirits, we does. With you _being_ winter, now..."

He nodded slowly, and hid a frown behind his folded hands. General Winter was inviting him? What was the man playing at? He despised Jack, after all, so...

Perhaps it was a trap? Or were there going to be Jotun at this gathering? Jotun did not fall under his rule, as such, though they were technically ice spirits. A group of Jotun challenging Jack... Yes, that would please the General, and would fit with the man's twisty mind. Jack had bested him twice now, physically. The general knew he could not stand against Jack alone. He much preferred to bully others, or get other people to do the hard labor.

He regarded the child with some sympathy. **_"And when is this gathering?"_** he asked.

"S-soon," she whispered, quivering. "T-today, actually."

Ah-hah. **_"And it would be a great insult if I did not come, now that I've been invited?"_** he prodded. The child nodded, shaking harder.

So there it was. Some kind of trap at the gathering if Jack did go, and the more subtle one if he did not. Insulting all of the winter spirits would be a poor idea. He could handle General Winter and his cronies easily enough, but should more spirits throw their power in with the General, numbers would tell.

He remained expressionless while he considered his options. All told, going would likely end up better than staying away.

Jack studied the poor child, and sighed. **_"I will go,"_** he said. She shook, and a single tear rolled down one cheek. She swiped it away. Poor thing. Poor, frightened thing.

 ** _"But first,"_** he said, and stood up slowly. She shrank back without actually moving, shaking harder. **_"That bruise on your cheek, child."_** He crossed the room one careful step at a time, and then knelt down in front of her. **_"Does it hurt?"_**

This close, he was able to make a proper guess of her age. Seven or eight, he thought, and smothered the curl of anger. She had been seven or eight for decades, centuries now. The match girls had been part of the Georgian era if not earlier. She was his age, or older, and as a spirit was not as frail as she looked.

 ** _"Does it hurt?"_** he asked again, when she simply shook.

Finally, she nodded her head once; a shallow bob meant more to be ignored than anything. Jack hooked a finger under her chin; she shook even harder.

 ** _"I might be able to do something for it,"_** he murmured. **_"Will you allow me to?"_**

"You shouldn't waste your power on me," she whispered.

 ** _"It is my power to use as I will,"_** he said, and smiled gently. **_"I do not think this will be a waste."_**

She nodded, and clenched her eyes shut, body braced as though for a blow. Jack sighed, and brushed his fingers over the faintly darker cheek, the bruised one. Poor thing.

He drew on his magic, on the gentler, protective power of thick, soft snow that hid the plants in their slumber. It flowed like honey-wine down his arms and from his fingers to her skin, and sunk in. She gasped, and her eyes snapped open in shock.

The power continued to pour into her, as though she were an empty well and he tilting the ocean into it. This power was not hard to control, no, it was as tame as winter ever got, and as gentle, yet he had to focus entirely upon it lest the power decide to get... playful. Yes, this was a playful brand of magic; the best snow to protect the sleeping plants was also the best snow to pack into snowballs and make snow forts out of.

And then, the power subsided and pulled away from the child, task complete. Jack sent it back where he'd pulled it from, and blinked until his vision refocused.

The child looking back at him was as different from the beaten waif as night to day.

Oh, she was still young looking, still in a scant little tunic, but her eyes were bright with health now instead of fear, her hair glossy and smooth as it fell over her shoulders and down her back. It was rich silver in color, he noticed, like the purest of the metal. The dirt was gone, and instead of a collection of sticks, her arms and legs were fleshed out, straight and strong. Her smock was clean, and if it was white, it was also thick linen covered in curling frost shapes that changed with every movement. She stared down at her hands in shock, and then tugged at the hem of her smock.

He frowned in thought while she was distracted. While he'd healed her, he'd apparently also done something else.

He hadn't been aware it was possible to change a spirit's nature, but the child was no longer a little match girl.

Interesting.

 ** _"You look much better,"_** he said, finally. **_"Shall we go to the gathering now?"_**

She looked up at him, and then her face twisted as she tried to hold back tears. The attempt failed, and she covered her face with her hands as she sobbed. Jack cupped one hand over her shoulders; she was such a tiny thing his hand covered her back with more to spare. Finally, her tears subsided, and she sniffed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

 ** _"Don't be. It will be fine."_** Jack stood up, and held one hand out to her. **_"What is your name, child?"_**

She looked ready to burst into tears again, but answered him readily enough. "Elsa."

**_"Well, Elsa. Where shall we go?"_ **

She named one of the older glaciers in Greenland. Jack nodded, and concentrated, first to bring his staff to hand and then for the transportation. It was somehow both easier and harder to transport himself and another winter spirit to the desired place.

The instant he saw their surroundings, he knew something was wrong. The Snow Queen and head Yuki-Onna, Rin-Sama, were there, smiling at him.

He didn't see any other winter spirits.

And then a lance of fire sunk deep into his low back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, technically this _is_ a Tuesday post- thanks to my work schedule being a bit wonky, I'm posting this at... 12:12AM Tuesday Morning. My manuscript has reached the publisher, now I just have to wait three months (because they don't do simultaneous submissions- so I have to wait before I can send it anywhere else. Thank you, guys, because I really want to get this published so now you're making me _wait_ , you're all heart...)
> 
> And yes, I know Elsa is kind of maybe referencing Frozen, even though I've not seen it. (I'll watch it on DVD.)


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

Jack howled, automatically arching his body away from the pain, but it followed. After a second that lasted an eternity, he realized what had happened.

He had been stabbed in the kidney.

He snarled his denial, and forced his body to move. He spun, letting go of Elsa's hand even as he brought his staff around and down at General Winter.

General Winter blocked with his sword, and they traded blows for several minutes.

The sword was made of ice. Jack didn't realize, until the General flicked the blade and the tip carved a line of pain across one bicep.

Jack's heart nearly stopped. They knew his weakness.

He added strength to his blows, knocking General Winter back several steps. He looked to the side, at Elsa, even as he put it together.

General Winter had sent her to bring him here, to a trap.

And she'd known.

Anger dulled the pain, even as he smiled reassuringly at the poor child. **_"Go,"_** he said, and then turned his attention back to General Winter.

The man was a master of the sword. Jack wished he'd taken the chance to spar with North, with Tooth, with Sandy. With Aster, even, though the idea made him flinch. His precious Aster, who should have been able to devote all his time and energy to his art and the children.

Jack was hard pressed just to keep General Winter from hitting him. Only his own, prodigious strength kept the fight anything like even. He kept backing away to give himself room, but despite the difference in size, General Winter kept close.

"Look out!" Elsa yelled.

Jack turned to look at her, just as someone raked a set of knives down his spine.

He shrieked from the surprise and pain of it, and spun. He backhanded Rin-Sama to the side, unthinking.

The things his father would have said, if he'd known Jack had hit a lady.

General Winter slashed at the back of Jack's legs, drawing blood. Jack snarled, and kicked backwards. His hoof hit the General in the center of the chest, knocking him back.

It wasn't good enough. Rin-Sama was already getting up, eyes red and nails lengthened to claws and coated in ice.

Jack snarled, and gathered his magic. The injuries hurt, but weren't debilitating. Not in the short term. Things might get interesting if he had to fight for several hours, though.

The Wind spun around him, half shield, half weapon, and he began to fight back.

He sent his power through the snow at General Winter. It erupted upwards in spikes of ice and force, knocking the man back. He actually lifted off the ground for a short distance, before crashing, bouncing, and rolling further away.

Jack charged Rin-Sama, and slammed the butt of his staff into her stomach, before lifting and throwing as though he had a pitchfork, and she was a sheaf of hay. She flew through the air and landed on the packed snow with a _crunch_.

He had forgotten the Snow Queen.

Ice hit him like a battering ram, and he staggered sideways. She sent another blow at him, but he diverted it, returning it with interest. She skipped to the side, the snow and ice circling about to come back at him.

**_"Enough of this,"_** he growled, and reached up to the clouds above. The twist of will was a familiar one now.

Green lightning split the air, and thunder shook the world.

He had shielded himself from the electricity, but had not thought the Terrible Trio would do the same. The Snow Queen was dazed. He moved to take advantage of it, but the other two closed in.

General Winter attacked from one side, while Rin-Sama clawed at the other. Jack shoved raw magic at Rin-Sama, which hurt her less than he could have hoped. General Winter used his momentary distraction to dive in, too close for Jack to bring his staff properly to bear.

The ice sword cut across Jack's side, deep. Blood began to pour down his hip and leg.

Jack roared and brought his elbow down, into General Winter's face. He heard the man's nose crunch, but it was nothing compared to the noise Jack made when Rin-Sama punched low on his spine. He felt the vertebrae pop, and then his good leg went numb.

He staggered, and went down onto one knee.

Jack looked around. Elsa was gone. Good. Her part in this had been minor, and unwilling. He didn't want her to get in further trouble.

The Terrible Trio stood an equal distance from each other and him, leaving him the center of the triangle. Jack glowered at each of them.

The blood was warm on his leg, the back of his thigh. He was going to be defeated- no, they would never settle for something so transitory. Defeat left the possibility of a resurgence.

They were going to kill him.

Elsa sobbed as she ran.

The Ice Lord had told her to go. And he was the Ice Lord! She had to obey him.

But he'd been really nice, and she'd led him to General Winter. She hadn't even _tried_ to tell him- he'd _helped_ her. And then they'd started hitting him, and he'd _smiled_ and told her to go. He'd been worried about _her_. After what she'd done!

She stumbled, and fell to hands and knees, skinning her palms on the ground. She sobbed harder. This was all her fault. She should have _told_ him. And now he was going to die. He was! The trio were- the trio! _He_ might be the Ice Lord, but _they_ fought together. No one could beat them. She'd seen what happened to those who tried.

... Dirt?

Elsa sniffled, and swiped at her eyes with the back of one hand. Dirt. Not snow. But... she'd been in Greenland, on the glacier. And she'd run... She didn't know which way she'd run, but not long enough to reach Greenland's _soil_ already.

She looked around, but she couldn't see... There was _some_ snow, but only tiny little mounds. When she'd been alive, she would have thought it was a lot, but now she was dead and she _knew_ what a lot of snow looked like. It didn't look like this.

This wasn't Greenland. Where was she?

The sky overhead was cloudless. Elsa looked up, and spotted wisps and streamers of golden sand. The Sandman. Her shoulders slumped. He was one of the Guardians. They didn't help spirits like her. She was too small to bother with, and the Snow Queen told all the little match girls that they hadn't gone to heaven because they'd been bad in life. Elsa believed it. The priests had said the same sorts of things, the few sermons she'd heard.

But... But maybe, if she told him she was asking help for the Ice Lord... Maybe then he'd listen? The Ice Lord was big and strong, and _he_ wasn't bad. He wasn't even sad and lonely anymore. The nice rabbit had made him happy again, and wasn't the nice rabbit supposed to be a Guardian too? Elsa had always avoided the rabbit for that reason, but she'd admired the pretty eggs from a distance. And all the pretty flowers too. There hadn't been many flowers in London, not where she'd lived.

Elsa lifted her chin. She'd ask. And if the Sandman said no, she'd _make_ him help. The Ice Lord couldn't fight _them_ on his own. If the Sandman helped, then maybe- maybe the Ice Lord would _win_.

She ran after the flashes and sparkles of sand. And began to realize that she was running much, much faster than she'd ever done before.

It was like she was jumping or- or- she had no idea, really. She'd set foot in one patch of snow, and the world would flicker and she would be several feet on. And it kept happening!

Finally she resolved to ignore it. The Ice Lord had to have done it, so she could get away from _them_ faster. And if it got her to the Sandman in time to be of help, then that was just what she needed anyways!

The flickering jumps took her across an entire countryside, it felt like. She had no idea how far she'd gone. But then there was a city in front of her, bright and shining in the darkness, and it was so much grander than the London she'd lived in.

Of course, London of now was much better than the London of then. But she hadn't gone back to London since she'd died. It had hurt too much.

She saw a bright, bright spot of light up _high_ above the city, and all the golden streamers came from that point. It was so high up! Elsa quailed inwardly, even as she firmed her little chin and focused. The Ice Lord had made it possible for her to run faster than the fastest car. He'd make it possible for her to reach the Sandman, too.

She ran faster, and everything flickered in time with her steps. And then she was under the Sandman, and _jumped_.

She jumped higher than she'd ever done before. Ever! And just when she thought she'd fall back to the ground, she felt something catch her up and lift her high.

And when she thought she was within hearing distance, she began shouting as loud as she could.

"Mr. Sandman! Mr. Sandman! Please! Please, I need your help!"

The Sandman turned, and his yellow eyes got very big and round when he caught sight of her. He extended a pillow of gold sand, and she fell onto it, breathing heavily. The Ice Lord might have given her magic to help her run away, but she'd still been running. And she felt so much better now, but she was still only eight years old.

Forever eight.

"Mr. Sandman, please, you have to listen to me, it's the Ice Lord, he's in trouble! He needs help! They're going to kill him, Mr. Sandman, please!"

The Sandman's eyes got even wider, and then he scowled and nodded.

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. He'd help her.

And then she realized they were flying, leaving the bright city behind. "Uh," she said, and clutched at the sand pillow. "Mr. Sandman? Where are we going?"

The Sandman showed her an arrow, pointing north, and then the arrow turned into three people-shapes. One of them looked like a woman with dragonfly wings and feathers, and one looked like a man from her dimmest memories, a man she suspected was her grandfather... And one of the people-shapes was of a rabbit that walked on its hind legs.

"The other Guardians?" she asked, and her eyes went wide.

The Sandman nodded, and twirled his hands about. She wondered what he was doing, and then three glowing balls of sand hovered in front of him. The Sandman looked them over, and nodded once. Then he sent them flying in all different directions.

Elsa kept her mouth shut, though she wanted to ask questions. It didn't matter what he'd just done, or why. As long as she brought the Ice Lord help.

He'd helped her. Now she would help him.

Jack lifted his chin, and showed his teeth. **_"Well?"_** he growled. **_"I am on my knees, as helpless as I've ever been. Do you feel brave enough_ now _?"_**

General Winter snarled, face twisting like a rabid dog's. "Я собираюсь убить тебя, грязный немного крысу!"

Jack smirked. He recognized enough of the Russian to know he'd hit some kind of nerve. **_"You never have been able to handle anyone in a_ fair _fight, General. Do your ladies make you wear a collar and bark like a dog, before you can fuck them?"_**

The barb struck more than just General Winter. Even as the man howled his rage, Rin-Sama darted in. Jack twisted, but his size betrayed him. She darted around behind him, out of reach, and tore into his back.

It hurt. She deliberately avoided injury to his spine, just so he could not go numb. A Yuki-Onna's talons could match a Samurai sword; edged in ice, hers cut through his ribs.

Immediately he had difficulty breathing. Even as he shifted his weight to continue turning, she was tearing into his shoulder. When he shifted to face that direction, she darted around behind him and tore into his other shoulder. His staff fell from limp fingers. Rin-Sama snatched at it, and danced out of reach before he could make his shredded muscles answer his will.

And then General Winter moved in.

He didn't use the sword.

Jack fended off the boots and fists as best he could, though once his arms were broken his best was limited to turning his head away from the blow. It went on forever. His hide was resistant to cuts, but physical force was physical force. General Winter had to be augmenting his strength somehow. Or Jack had weakened through the fight. Either was possible.

And then it ended. Jack squinted up at the General, who held his sword in both hands, point over Jack's chest.

Over his heart.

"Hold."

General Winter turned to look; Jack kept his eyes on the sword. Nothing the Snow Queen said would change what happened next.

"He cannot be killed while this is intact."

Or perhaps it would.

He turned, the cracked and broken vertebrae in his neck grinding against each other, and looked.

She had his staff.

He was the Ice Lord. It was perfectly possible for his blood to run cold.

The Snow Queen turned the staff over in her hands. When she looked up, his cold blood tried to freeze. "The staff is tied to his life-force, his core. Whole, whatever is done to him will heal given enough time. Broken..."

Ah, that explained why his suicide attempts never worked.

"Give it to me," General Winter hissed.

The Snow Queen frowned at him. "You? And what will you do with it?"

The General smiled.

Aster ran through his tunnels after Sandy's message-ball. He banished exhaustion and pain, drawing on the power of Spring. That done, he reached the magic forward, into the spells woven through and around his tunnels, and twisted.

The half-hour journey was over in five minutes.

He never noticed the snow, or the cold. He was fairly certain he'd flung the large door open himself. The bustle and hustle of North's Workshop wasn't so much as a blip on his radar. He barely noticed the yeti diving out of his way.

Aster tore into the meeting room, eyes wide and wild, chest heaving. "Sandy. What about Jack?"

North and Sandy turned to look at him. Tooth dove in through an open window. And a small child burst into tears.

North bent down and began soothing the child, a small frost spirit. Strangely, he didn't lapse into Russian. Tooth fluttered about until Sandy caught her wrist with a tendril of sand, and tugged her down.

"What- what's going on?" Tooth looked around the room. "What's this about, Sandy?"

Sandy began flashing a series of images, but the child interrupted him.

"It's them!" she shouted, sounding perilously close to wailing. "The Snow Queen an' the Onna lady an' General Winter! They made me get the Ice Lord- they're hurting him! Now! An' he helped me get away so you have to help him! I- I'll _make_ you!"

Aster's heart seized in his chest, and he all but threw himself down onto the floor in front of the child. "Them- the Terrible Trio?" he asked, using the term Jack preferred. "Where?"

"G-Greenland," she said, shocked from her tears. "The- the Helheim Glacier. He- they hit him and he- I ran, he told me to, I should've stayed-"

"No," he said, and gave her the tiniest of shakes. "No, you did the right thing getting us. We'll help Jack. He'll be just fine, but always nice to have a couple swords on your side."

"Yes," North said. He was enunciating carefully, speaking without his usual accent. Considering the child had likely been tormented by General Winter, good idea. "Yeti have gone to get sabers for me, and a rapier for Tooth. Bunny, you have weapons? Yes? Ah, good. And Sandy, bah, you have sand, what need have you for blade? I have portal. Yeti will be but a minute."

"I'm going with you," the girl said.

"No." Aster ducked his head so he could stare directly into her eyes. They were gray, or rather silver, like shiny new dimes. "No, you stay here. This isn't about your bravery. It's about fighting."

"I'm too little," she whispered.

"And Jack wouldn't thank us for putting you in danger, when he wanted you to get out of it. So stay here." He stroked a paw over her hair. "Alright?"

"Alright."

"We have swords," North said. Aster stood up.

"Right," he growled, and drew his boomerang.

North threw the portal, and they charged through.

The first thing he saw was the blood.

It was everywhere. Dark red, and frozen, it glittered faintly in the midnight sun. Most of it was in a puddle under... under Jack.

Aster couldn't move. He just couldn't. Jack, Jack who was so strong, so powerful, lay in a crumpled heap. His arms had been shredded, quite literally, from shoulders to wrists. Strings, strips, of skin and muscle, draped over the ice, and hints of bone could just barely be seen through the mess. Bruises, black and violet, darkened every inch of skin not otherwise torn or bloody.

His ribs had been _crushed_.

Someone gasped. Someone cursed. Someone else whimpered, and Aster was fairly sure that last was him.

General Winter looked up, and smiled at them. "Perfect timing," he said, and stabbed his sword downward.

Jack twitched, and wheezed. General Winter pulled the sword free, twisting it as he did.

It was too much for North. He roared and charged, twin blades flashing as he drove General Winter back. The two sword masters danced over the snow and ice. When Rin-Sama and the Snow Queen moved to help General Winter, Tooth and Sandy moved in. Tooth went after the Snow Queen, her borrowed rapier liquid silver in her hands, while Sandy lashed whips of golden sand at Rin-Sama.

Aster ran for Jack.

"No," he gasped. "No, no, no." He fell to his knees beside his mate, his love, heedless of the blood that crunched under the impact. "No, Jack, Jack, look at me. C'mon mate, don't do this, look at me!"

Jack's eyelids fluttered, and his head shifted slightly. "A..." A little blood trickled across his cheek from the corner of his mouth. "As... You..." He gasped, and his eyes opened a crack. "Came."

His hands fluttered over the crushed and ruined chest. He- he had to do something. Something. What?

His magic. He had the mantle of spring. Healing. He could heal Jack.

Aster forced his panic to one side and concentrated. His hands began to glow green, as faint as Sandy's light. He pressed his hands to Jack's chest, and did his best to ignore the pained sound- too faint to be a groan or a whine or even a hiss- Jack made.

"It's going to be okay," he babbled, pouring energy into Jack. He'd give everything, everything, his own life-force, whatever it took. "Just don't leave me."

"As... Aster." Jack's chest heaved, and something hissed with each breath. A punctured lung. Both lungs. El-Ahrairah preserve him, there was so much damage! "Aster. Stop."

_Stop_! Aster poured yet more energy into Jack, but turned to look at his face.

Jack's eyes were opened, brilliant and blue, seemingly brighter against the dark bruising covering his face. "Aster. St-stop. P-please."

Aster sobbed. "No. No, you're going to be fine. I'm going to _make_ you fine. Just hold on."

"Can't," Jack whispered. "My... staff." His head rolled. Aster looked in that direction, and swallowed hard.

The snow was covered in _splinters_. Not one was longer than an inch. Most were much, much smaller.

"Your... staff?" he asked, and hated how his voice quavered.

"Tied... my life. Whole, I..." He paused to gasp for breath again. "Can't die," he finished, but he sounded weaker. "Broken..."

Broken, he couldn't live.

"No," Aster whispered. His grasp on his powers faded. He barely noticed. "No!" He grabbed Jack's shoulders, and felt bones shift and grind together under his fingers. "Jack, no, please, you can't! You can't go, you can't-"

Jack's eyes had gone glassy. They were open, but no longer worked. Aster sobbed, and first one tear, and then another, dripped from his cheeks onto Jack's.

"It's alright," Jack whispered. "Aster. You made me so happy... It's alright."

Aster bowed his head and keened. He was losing his mate. He was- and Jack- "No," he whispered again, a broken denial of the inevitable. Jack was dying. "No. _Please_ , Jack. I can't lose you. Please, just... Just don't... _Jack_..."

Jack's lips trembled, and blood traced lines from the corners of his mouth to the ground. "Bunny," he whispered. "My Bunny. N-never... Never ran..."

"No," Aster whispered, and closed his eyes. "Never did, did I?" He bent down, and pressed his lips to Jack's.

He tasted like blood.

Jack groaned when he pulled back, his beautiful blue eyes growing dark as his pupils expanded.

Aster caressed his mate's cheek. "I love you."

Jack's eyes widened, and he breathed in once, sharply. He looked happy.

He didn't breathe out.

 


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

He wasn't breathing.

Aster sobbed, and pressed his face against Jack's chest, his broken chest. Jack's skin was cool and getting colder, and tacky with blood. There wasn't a heartbeat.

He was dead.

Jack was dead.

"No," he whispered, and clenched his hands into fists. "No, Jack, you..."

Was this it? Was he meant to be alone? Was that why everyone died? His father. His mother. His people. _Jack_. He was the spirit of Hope and New Life. In order for there to be new life, the old had to die.

Was this his fault?

It felt like his fault.

Aster moved just enough, until he could nuzzle slowly at Jack's neck. His poor Jack. His poor, poor mate. All gone now. No more Jack.

He sighed, and licked at his mate's neck, right where it met the corner of his jaw, and whimpered a little. No more kisses, no more touching, no more homey little moments while Aster was cooking and Jack was keeping him company. No more cuddling. No more talking.

It felt like someone had ripped his heart from his chest. He wasn't at all certain the feeling was wrong, either.

Someone swore in Russian, and he snarled. He didn't want to be bothered. He was grieving. He wanted to be left alone, with his mate, just...

Russian.

Aster hissed, and looked up. His eyes narrowed to slits.

General Winter.

General Winter had killed his Jack.

He was growling, and flexing his fingers against Jack's chest. For a moment, the grief swamped the rage, threatening to drown it, but then he realized Jack's chest was spongy because someone had kicked his ribs in. All his ribs.

The rage burnt away the grief. He was left clear headed, and angry, and General Winter was right _there_. The Snow Queen was right _there_. Rin-Sama was right _there_.

They'd hurt his Jack.

He was going to _kill them_.

He fumbled at his bandolier, until he pulled open the little used pouch. The leather cracked a touch, even though he'd oiled it to keep it supple.

Chocolate. Five ounces of the old, pure stuff, without all the additives that made the current stuff useless to him.

Five ounces would be enough to give him six arms. It'd last long enough for him to tear General Winter limb from fucking limb.

After that? He didn't care.

For the first time he knew why his mother had committed suicide when his father died.

He swallowed the pieces of chocolate without chewing. Waited five seconds.

And then screamed.

First in pain, as four new arms sprouted violently from his back.

Then in rage, as he doubled over and caught sight of Jack's body.

And then, grief and fury, he stood up and _roared_ at the fighters.

_"I love you."_

He hadn't expected that. Not so _soon_. He'd... hoped... Oh, how he'd hoped, keeping it tucked away in a tiny corner of his heart where he didn't have to look at it, where it wouldn't hurt him every day the hope went unfulfilled...

_"I love you."_

Pain? Pain was nothing. Sorrow, grief- they didn't exist.

Joy...

_"I love you."_

Oh yes. There was joy.

It rose up, gentle and unrelenting, until he sparkled with it, until it danced on his tongue and before his eyes. Joy. Pure joy, with nothing to detract from it.

_"I love you."_

Always before there had been something else. Fear of hurting the children. Fear of hurting Aster. Rage that it had taken so long to get what he'd wanted. He'd been happy, but not joyful.

Now, he was.

_"I love you."_

E. Aster Bunnymund, Mantle of Spring and Easter Bunny, loved Jackson Overland Frost, Mantle of Winter and Ice Lord.

The joy filled him, every pore, every cell, every atom, and it was silver-blue and bright.

There was magic in joy.

The magic was his.

It was the magic of a perfect snow day.

It was the magic of a beautifully thrown snowball.

It was the magic of a chaotic glory of a sled ride down an icy hill.

_"I love you."_

It was hearing those words, those perfect words, words he'd been secretly waiting to hear.

_"I love you."_

Jack grinned, and sat up. For a second, two, he looked around, confused. Where was Aster? He was- he'd been right _there_. Crying. Jack- Jack had to- he had to tell him, to comfort him, because somehow the magic, the joy, had _fixed_ him and-

Roaring.

That way.

He looked over, and the breath caught in his throat.

Aster. Aster was roaring.

"Oh," he whispered, and stared. Aster had- why did he have six arms? Jack scowled, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt lighter. The joy? The new magic? Even now, worried as he was, he could feel joy tingling through him, like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. He felt lighter than air, and he moved easily enough to give credit to the belief.

General Winter danced around Aster, nipping in and out of reach of those arms, laughing. Aster was covered in blood, most his, some not, and it slicked down his fur. Even with that, he looked better than the others. Tooth was half frozen, wings and one arm encased in ice, and she was slowly chipping herself out. Her progress would have been faster, but for the Snow Queen sending chill blasts of power in her direction every few seconds.

Sandy was fighting with Rin-Sama, shattering the ice forming on him as quickly as Rin-Sama sent it. They were evenly matched; Rin-Sama couldn't hurt Sandy, but it seemed Sandy couldn't hurt Rin-Sama either. The Dreamweaver preferred to use whips made from his sand, and it took too long, even for him, to snap the whips around. Rin-Sama was able to dance out of the way, with room to spare. Sandy had started to use other methods- spikes and what looked like a giant hammer from some video game- but they were clearly awkward, things he hadn't spent millennia practicing with.

North, one sleeve dripping blood, was trying to attack the Snow Queen. Every time he got near, she gestured with one hand; javelins of ice formed in midair and shot at him, and he was forced to defend himself. While he was busy with that, she would gesture a second time, and the snow under his feet would shoot backwards, so he either fell forwards onto his face, or back into the snow.

Jack clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. Given enough time, the Guardians would be able to beat the Terrible Trio. The Trio did not help each other, whatever their personal relationships. The Guardians did. Sandy would switch opponents with North, North would send Bunny to help Tooth free of the ice and then the rabbit and the Memory-Keeper would go after Rin-Sama, and between them, win. North would fight General Winter, Russian soldier to Cossack bandit, and the result of that fight would be inevitable.

The Guardians did not have that time.

Jack concentrated, until the winds swirled around him, streamers in all the shades of blue and silver that existed. The subtle magic of snow and ice, the greater power of winter, and the magic of joy, his joy, the joy of the world. It had always been there, Jack realized, the source of his personal power, but he'd only been able to use the drips. Most of it had been out of reach.

It wasn't out of reach now...

Yet something was missing.

He looked down, and scowled at the splinters of his staff. That. That was missing.

He needed the staff to focus his powers, the three different kinds of magic, all powerful, so that they merged into one, a unified strength. Without it, he could use one kind or the other, but only one at a time.

"So," he said, and held one hand out over the splinters.

There were five hundred and ninety-three splinters.

Each one shone his personal, silver-blue.

Jack flexed his fingers, and snarled. "Mine!"

The slivers jumped into the air and assembled his staff.

He closed his fingers around the wood, and felt power humming through it. His staff. His weapon, his tool, his focus.

His.

Very slowly, he shifted his stance, until he held the staff in both hands. Then, he looked up.

For all that it had felt like forever, little had changed. The Guardians fought the Terrible Trio, and were slowly beginning to lose.

Time to fix that.

General Winter had the luck of El-Ahrairah himself, it seemed. He knocked Aster back, with a blow to one arm that made the whole limb go numb, and then stabbed down. The blade sank into Aster's foot, and the General twisted it.

Aster howled, pain cutting through the rage that had kept him going.

He fell back, but the sword was still in his foot. General Winter advanced, a nasty grin on his face, and Aster swiped three arms at him.

General Winter avoided the attack, as he'd avoided all the others, and darted around Aster's side to cut at a shoulder. Aster snarled, shifted his weight onto his bad foot- which promptly collapsed under him.

He rolled when he hit the ground. And then... He could prop himself up on his elbows, five still functioning, but not more than that.

He was tired. He was covered in blood, and most of it was his. And... As angry as he was, his heart wasn't in it.

Jack was _gone_. What was the _point_? Killing General Winter wouldn't bring his mate back.

General Winter pulled his sword free of Aster's foot, and grinned. "What, you are done? So soon? Bah, I should have known a little _rare_ -bit could be no warrior. The world will be better off without you, too."

The reminder of Jack's- of Jack- made him snarl, but he had no energy for anything more. He could only watch, resigned, as General Winter lifted one hand high, sword pointed at his heart.

He was going to die. The only consolation he could see was that shortly, he'd join his mate, and they'd never be separated again.

"No!"

Aster's eyes widened. For a second, he'd thought- And then a small, pale hand caught General Winter by the wrist, and next he realized, the good General was thrown backwards a good twenty feet, only to bounce and roll another fifteen.

He looked desperately at the man who'd thrown the General Winter, and almost sobbed at the crushing of his hope. The man wasn't nine feet tall and a good five hundred pounds. He didn't have hooves or blue fur covering his legs, broad shoulders or curling ram's horns. The man wasn't Jack.

Aster didn't know who he was, but he didn't look like he should be fighting. He was short, maybe tall enough to come up to Aster's collarbone, but not much more than that. He was slight, and probably weighed half of what Aster did, if that. He was naked, which... was a touch odd, but what did it matter?

And the man held a familiar staff.

Aster growled. That was Jack's staff.

... Hadn't Jack's staff been splinters?

It didn't matter. That man, that stranger, had no _right_ to touch Jack's staff. Aster tried to move, so he could tear the staff from the man's grip, but he couldn't.

So he was forced to watch as the man, the strange winter spirit, shifted his grip. The staff began to glow, an unfamiliar shade of blue-white. Infuriating. That was _Jack's_.

General Winter stood up, and for a moment looked... panicked. "No," he said. Aster heard him clearly, even over the other fighting going on. "No. Not _you_."

The winter spirit chuckled, and jumped into the air. "Me."

Then he went on the attack.

The winter spirit moved so fast he blurred. It wasn't as fast as Jack could go- as Jack _had_ gone, he corrected himself. But faster than General Winter was good enough.

General Winter swung at the spirit, but missed. When the spirit lashed out with the staff, he didn't miss. Bones snapped, and General Winter was flung to the side.

Into the Yuki-Onna, Rin-Sama.

Aster's jaw dropped. That had taken some aim...

Sandy flew backwards to avoid the tangle, and looked over at the new spirit. He looked startled, but he must have recognized the bloke, because he nodded respectfully. Instead of going after the two winter spirits, Sandy moved over to Tooth.

Aster flushed with shame. Tooth was half-frozen. He could have helped her quickly enough, but instead he'd focused on General Winter, leaving Tooth to suffer. Good on Sandy for going over there once someone else was handling the Yuki-Onna.

The spirit dove after the entwined duo, and intercepted a blow from the Snow Queen, aimed at Tooth and Sandy. He barely seemed to notice the attack, but it stopped as suddenly as though it'd hit into a brick wall or- no. A wall would have shattered. It was more like a dog that'd hit the end of its leash of a sudden, jerked to a stop.

And then the spirit gave a little shove with his hand, and sent the attack back at the Snow Queen, with interest.

She went flying. The takeoff was poor, and the landing worse.

North stood where he was, panting, before shaking himself all over like an exhausted bear. "Bunny! Друг мой!" He gestured at Sandy and Tooth. "Come. We must make stand together."

The three of them hurried over, and North reached down and pulled Aster to his feet. Aster swayed sideways, until he was leaning against the old Cossack's shoulder. Bleeding though he might be, North was sturdy as ever.

"Oh," Tooth said. Aster blinked. Sandy made gibberish signs overhead. And North looked gobsmacked.

The new winter spirit was thrashing the trio. With ease.

General Winter moved left, while Rin-Sama moved right, as they tried to circle him. The Snow Queen threw blast after blast of snow and ice at the winter spirit.

The spirit laughed, and spun his stolen staff. The Snow Queen's attacks split around him, threatening the other two so they leapt away and cursed. The Snow Queen was forced to let up her attack, which apparently meant it was time for the spirit to charge her.

She screeched, and formed a sword out of ice. It didn't do her any good, although clearly she'd been getting lessons from the General. The spirit used the shepherd's crook like a quarterstaff, adding in the occasional showy flourish as though to rub in every blow he landed.

He landed all of them.

Rin-Sama ran to the Snow Queen's aid. Something must have warned the spirit, because he flipped backwards over Rin-Sama's head, and made an odd, stabbing gesture with his hand.

A mound of ice shot forward into Rin-Sama's back. She arched backwards at an impossible angle, and then collapsed, motionless, to the snow. After a minute she stirred, but her legs were limp, and she lay twisted in a way possible only in snakes and cephalopods.

Her back had been broken.

The winter spirit laughed, and then turned on the two remaining.

The sky was suddenly filled with lightning.

Aster flinched back, eyes clenched shut. Jack had used lightning. Jack wouldn't use lightning ever again.

"Oh, no, look-" Tooth flinched back against Aster. "Oh. Wow."

"What?" Aster asked, and looked.

The light-show had ended. A dance competition had just begun.

Or at least, that was the only comparison his brain seemed capable of. The Snow Queen and General Winter worked together to pin the winter spirit between them, but if anything that was worse for them than it was for him. He flitted about like Tooth on caffeine, and the staff was an ever spinning blur in his hands. He barely touched the ground. And the other two struggled through snow halfway up their calves, snow that reached up and caught their legs and held on.

The winter spirit ducked around behind the Snow Queen, and- it looked like the bastard child of a spinning kick and a camel spin from figure skating. It caught her right between the shoulder blades, and sent her flying into General Winter.

The General didn't get his swords down in time.

Aster flinched at the sound the blades made when they stabbed through the Snow Queen's stomach, and out her back. Unpleasant. And then she screamed, high and piercing, and he had another reason to flinch.

Woman must've had Banshee in her family tree.

General Winter flung her to one side. He only kept one sword, the other apparently lodged in bone and too hard to pull free. He ignored the Snow Queen, curled up around her injuries in the snow and crying, and began stalking after the winter spirit.

Aster shook his head. "How can he do that?" he asked, reminded anew of his grief. If that'd been Jack...

"They care nothing for each other," North said. He wrapped his arm around Aster's waist, as much for support as an abbreviated hug, all they could manage until the four extra arms vanished again.

He shuddered at the thought, and watched General Winter and the winter spirit circle each other.

"This means nothing," the General snarled. He charged.

Aster _thought_ the winter spirit rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure.

The winter spirit twirled the staff once, and caught it with both hands. The butt of it was sheathed in ice that lengthened to a sharp point.

The winter spirit said something, too low for even Aster to catch, and it made General Winter stumble and hesitate for a full step.

It was all the opening the spirit needed.

He snapped the staff around, and stepped forward, into General Winter's rush. The sharpened point stabbed into the General's chest, and there was a horrible cracking sound before it punctured the man's ribcage. General Winter stumbled, and fell forward. The top of the staff caught on the snow, and held, and then the man was impaled fully, a good six or seven inches sticking out through his back.

The winter spirit grabbed General Winter by the hair, and pulled back. He said something else; Aster was only able to catch the cadence of his words, nothing more.

And then the spirit shoved General Winter to the side, and pulled the staff free. He stabbed it down, skewering General Winter a second time.

The second blow must have hit the heart. General Winter convulsed, and then went limp. After a long, long second, he began to disintegrate into snow.

The instant the corpse began to disintegrate, the two women screamed, convulsed, and fell silent. Aster turned to look at them, one after the other, but _they_ were turning into snow, too.

"Did he tie them to him?" Tooth wondered, and shook her head. "That wasn't coherent..."

"Coherent enough," Aster said. "Fits their personalities, would keep 'em from backstabbing."

He looked over at Jack's corpse- and froze. Jack's body was gone. And- and that new spirit had Jack's staff, which- no. He didn't have _anything_ of his mate now. He- he needed the staff. It was all that was left of Jack.

He staggered forward a step, surprising North. "You!" he called.

The winter spirit turned, and stared at their small group. He tilted his head to the side, and then began walking across the battleground, staff held easily in one hand.

Aster couldn't help but seethe. How dare that spirit hold the staff so easily? As though it belonged to _him_? It didn't! It belonged to Jack! And Aster was going to take that staff back, and... And cry over it, probably, since his mate's body was gone.

_Oh_ , this had better not be the new leader of the winter spirits... He couldn't _stand_ the thought.

The new spirit got within arms' reach, and stopped there. Aster looked him over. Now that he was calming down, though the grief dragged at him, he was better able to make note of the new spirit.

He certainly had that... undefined sparkle that suggested _he_ now had the mantle of winter. He was naked, without so much as a covering for his groin, and his pale skin was smooth over lean muscle. He was built like an acrobat, with narrow shoulders and a narrower waist, and looked all legs and arms and compact body. His face was pleasant enough, with a ready smile on his lips, a straight nose, and long, long hair that, even tangled, reached halfway to his hips. His hair was white, with a single streak of blue just above one temple.

"You're staring at me," the spirit said, eyes dancing. Aster looked away from those eyes. The color was too much like Jack's. It _hurt_.

"How dare you?" he hissed, fur trying to bristle, even with the blood slicking it down. "How- you put that down _right now_!"

The spirit looked at the staff he held. "This? Why?"

"It's not yours!" he howled. "Put it down!"

The spirit blinked, looking honestly surprised. "But-"

No! No buts! That staff was _Jack's_! And Jack was _dead_! And Aster was not about to let _his mate's_ staff be taken away by some unknown, some ragged _beast_ of a man who didn't know anything, let alone how to dress or his manners! And he'd fight the spirit for the staff, too. It was all he'd have to remember Jack by, and he wasn't going to give it up. He wasn't! So the bugger could very well just put the staff down and walk away, before Aster jobbed him and tore up all that white skin.

He realized he was shouting only when he stopped.

The spirit blinked at him, looking bemused. He opened his mouth, shook his head, and looked down at his hands.

And then froze.

Aster frowned, watching. Something was going on. Why- why would anyone look at their hand like they were surprised to see it still attached?

The spirit turned his hand over so he could stare at the back, then flipped again so he could look at his palm. And then he looked at his other hand, holding the staff. His arms. Then down at the rest of his body. He lifted one foot up, and wiggled his toes.

"I have toes?" he murmured, barely audible. "When... what?"

Then the spirit patted at one hip. "Where'd my loincloth go?" he asked, sounding annoyed, and began to look around.

"Your- huh?"

"Loincloth, Cottontail," the spirit said absently. Aster flinched back from the nickname. Jack had called him that, mouth quirking up on one side in a shockingly sweet little smile. And of late, he'd tweak Aster's tail too. The name was... personal.

He growled, and narrowed his eyes. How dare that spirit use such a term? Only Jack was allowed to.

The spirit looked over at the growl, and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a shockingly sweet little smile. "What?" he asked.

Aster couldn't answer; he was too angry. Instead he glared, drawing the anger up as a bulwark against the tears. Jack was gone. How _dare_ this spirit mimic his expressions and habits and...

... and eyes?

"Bunny?" North asked, but now he couldn't spare any attention for his friends.

The spirit... His eyes. They were blue, uniquely so. An intense shade that took forever and a day to match- and he'd spent hours poring over his paint selection, trying to decide just what looked best- with flecks of white surrounding the pupils. Like this, the white flecks looked like snowflakes. They glittered against the darker blue, seeming to dance.

He'd seen only one other person with eyes like those. But... But Jack was dead. Jack was- so this spirit couldn't- but his _eyes_ -!

The spirit began to smile, wide and bright. Aster heard Tooth sigh a little over his teeth. "Is something the matter, Bunny? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The voice wasn't right. It wasn't. He clung to that fact, the remembered, combined rumble of ice grinding against ice and shriek of the north wind. Jack's voice had barely been human.

Except... at the end...

He'd sounded very much like this spirit.

"I," he said, and now he was staring desperately into the spirit's eyes. This was impossible. But... Hope was a painful flutter in his chest, stabbing at his heart even as it lifted his spirits. "I..."

The spirit laughed, and Aster felt his hope die a little. Jack had never laughed like that, so bright and carefree. He'd dreamed of the day Jack would, but... that had never happened.

"It's alright," the spirit said. He reached forward and took Aster's hand. The Pooka couldn't quite gather the energy to pull away. "It's been a while for me, too. I almost forgot how toes looked like!"

Wait. Toes?

"Jack?" he breathed.

If anything, the spirit's grin got wider. "Finally clued in, hm?"

"Jack!"

Not dead. Not dead! In his arms- Aster pressed his face against the top of Jack's head- smelling so sweet, of new snow and pine and cold air- _not dead_ \- he was weeping, he realized, but he couldn't care because his Jack wasn't dead, was here, with him, hugging him back just as desperately. It was- and- he wasn't dead!

He was also naked.

Aster took hold of Jack's shoulders and shoved him back, to arms' length, and looked him over again. "But- you were hurt," he said, and twisted Jack around so he could study the human's back. "Now you're not?"

Jack looked... perfect, like a masterwork of carved ivory, like a new canvas. All that white skin... He ran one hand down Jack's arm, and sighed at how soft and smooth it was. He turned around again, and smiled up- _up_ \- at Aster.

"I suppose it was turning back human that did it," he said.

"How?" Tooth asked. She, North, and Sandy moved forward, circling Jack. North and Sandy both nodded, looking curious.

Aster suppressed the urge to snatch Jack up and run away with him. For one, his four extra arms were starting to retract, and it hurt enough that he wouldn't be running anywhere until it stopped, and probably a few hours after. For another, it'd mean he wouldn't have the chance to look at that creamy smooth skin anymore. And that would be a damn shame.

Especially since Jack _was_ naked, missing his loincloth and all. No one else was looking lower than Jack's shoulders, which meant Aster didn't have to kill anyone in a jealous rage. That part of Jack's body that happened to be at the apex of his legs was for Aster to look at, and Aster alone.

Limp, Jack's prick didn't look like much, but then, human genitals rarely did. The nest of fine white curls looked the same, though, just covering a somewhat smaller area.

"Aster," Jack said, and waved a hand in front of the Pooka's face. "My eyes are up here."

If it were possible to blush through fur... he was doing that. "Well!"

"Yeah, you're helping me find my loincloth. I think it fell off when I stood up."

North sighed, very loudly, and raised his eyebrows. "Jack, how did you...? You are human again. And..."

"Not dead," Jack said. He stepped forward, and wrapped one arm around Aster's back. Alive. Alive. With his mate pressed up against him, Aster could handle talk of Jack's near brush with death.

"Well," Jack said, and bit his lip. "It was... Aster said something that made me happy. Really happy. Pure joy, in fact." He laughed, and gestured with his staff. The wood lit up with the new, silver-blue magic. "It's... it's mine, it's always been mine, but now it's _all_ mine. You know?"

No, Aster didn't know. But it didn't matter.

His Jack was happy, and alive, and _that_ was what mattered.

Everything else could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this chapter is dedicated to Pooka-Curse, who's having a wee bit of trouble with anons over on his tumbler. They're being stupid, basically, and really... Anyways, since I can't actually give him a hug (Atlantic Ocean you are a cruel bitch) I'm posting the chapter today instead of tomorrow, and giving him all the virtual hugs.
> 
> So yeah, Pooka, I'm sorry the idiots are getting you down right now. Feel better!


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

North's coat was hardly anything that could be called 'clothing' anymore, but at that it was better than Jack's loincloth. It hadn't shrunk to fit, and no matter how many knots he put into the sides it would only fall off. Bloody and torn the coat might have been, but it covered all of the important bits.

Although... He smirked, expression mostly hidden by the fall of his hair. He was too busy propping up Aster to brush the tangled locks away from his face. The rabbit's rather... intent regard of Jack's groin had been surprisingly...

Probably for the best Aster was covered in blood. The visual reminder had been enough to keep Jack from jumping him. That, and the four extra arms making odd cracking noises as they shrank down. It had to be painful, but other than the faintest wince, Aster didn't seem to notice it.

He couldn't be used to it... could he? How many times did a person have to go through something so- so clearly painful before it became matter of fact and part of life? A dozen times? Two dozen? A hundred? Jack suppressed a growl, easier as a human than as a...

Well, what _had_ he been before? Some kind of odd looking ice-faun? Perhaps a satyr, without the obsession with sex? He'd certainly had the legs, though his horns had been more like a mountain ram's than a billy goat's. And he'd been bigger than the largest of the satyrs, by several feet and several hundred pounds. Perhaps it would be better just to refer to his appearance as the Ice Lord as simply that- as the Ice Lord.

He shook his head, and smiled when Aster looked down with an inquiring noise. "I'm fine," he murmured, delighting anew at the sound of his old voice, his human voice. "You?"

Aster smiled. "I'll manage."

Jack nodded, and looked ahead. North's snow globe had brought them out to the Workshop doorstep, give or take a few feet. He wasn't sure why- perhaps something to do with security? It made for something of a pain, waiting for the yeti doorman to let them in, and then having to limp across the workshop to the small medical suite, but he set the irritation aside. He didn't have to be that way anymore, angry over the littlest things.

The moment they entered, the yeti sprang into motion. Several ran up with stretchers for the injured Guardians, and insisted that they lie down, even Sandy. Aster looked ready to protest, but Jack slanted a narrow-eyed look at him and nodded at the stretcher. Aster gave in.

Jack, as the lone, uninjured person, followed along after the stretcher-bearers to the medical suite. The two medical yeti were there, and they split up. Sandy and Tooth were the least injured; Sandy, in fact, didn't seem hurt at all, just tired. Tooth was merely cold, with a few broken feathers and some bruising from the ice. North's arm was cut, and deeply, but the bleeding had already begun to slow. It took a single yeti practically no time at all to administer a local anesthetic and stitch the gash up.

Aster was another story. The second medical yeti helped him to the small washroom to get the blood off. Jack considered following, but- the chair he was sitting on was quite comfortable, and if he wasn't injured _now_ , he'd still been in a horrific fight. He'd _been_ injured, and quite probably the only reason he wasn't _dead_ was because his magic had reversed his transformation and the injuries hadn't carried over. He was tired, down to his bones. Aster could manage alone for the moment.

Jack raised one eyebrow- he could raise his eyebrows! An odd thing to be gleeful over, but he hadn't had much by way of facial expressions for a while now- at the sound of- were those electric clippers? He covered his grin with one hand when Aster started swearing.

He stopped grinning when the yeti helped the rabbit limp back out into the main room. Aster had been mostly shaved, fur clipped short to keep it out of the many, many wounds. It left Aster the nearest to 'naked' anyone with fur could be. His face had been left untouched- the blood there had apparently not been his, or had come from tiny wounds already scabbed over and not requiring stitches. His shoulders and arms had the faintest of stubble for fur, his chest and back were the same down to his navel and hips, and then his thighs and one calf had been clipped as well.

Jack narrowed his eyes. If General Winter hadn't already been dead... He flexed the fingers on one hand, and focused until he was wearing a pleasant, faintly amused expression.

General Winter was dead, turned to snow. Jack couldn't go back in time and torture the man before death; wouldn't, even if he could. How could he ever look anyone in the eyes again if he resorted to such methods? Torture was one of the vilest acts one person could ever inflict on another.

At least he had no real guilt over what he'd done to General Winter. The man had died far too quickly for his crimes. He had, even more than Seraphina, been actively working to disrupt the balance, murder the Guardians, murder humans, and compounding his crimes was how he'd treated the other winter spirits. He'd ruled through terrorizing those weaker than he was, and had delighted in it.

"Hey, Cottontail," he said, forcing joviality into his voice. "Do _you_ want the coat?"

Aster leered as best as he could, considering he'd been given a general painkiller so the yeti could stitch up his many, many wounds. "Be a good view, but nah. I'm a jealous bloke."

Jack was just thankful he 'blushed' frost.

North cleared his throat. "I will have yeti find pants for you," he said, and limped over to the door.

Fair enough. Jack remained in his seat, with a weather eye on the yeti tending Aster. There were a lot of stitches, it seemed, but no broken bones. Good. Good. Stitches tore at his self control but broken bones would have shattered it.

If he hadn't been so tired, he would have gotten up and started pacing.

Aster blinked sleepily when the yeti finished, and studied his arms with drugged intensity. Then he looked up, and grinned at Jack. "Hey. C'mere."

If he had lost both legs at the knee, he would have _crawled_ over to the rabbit's bedside.

There was room enough on the bed for two, if neither cared much for personal space. Jack was entirely too delighted to press up against Aster's warmth, and reassure himself that the rabbit was whole, safe, with light touches over the shoulders and upper arms. For his part, Aster wrapped one arm around Jack's shoulders, and snuffled at the winter spirit's hair.

"This comes off," he grumbled, and pushed at North's coat. "Smells like wrong."

"Like wrong?" Jack asked, almost laughing.

Aster frowned. "Not like you."

Well, fair enough. "Either move so I can get under the covers, or wait until North comes back with pants. I thought you were a jealous one?"

"Ooooh," Aster said, and nodded enthusiastically. His ears flopped with the motion. "I am. It still smells like wrong, though."

Jack peered around the rabbit's shoulder at Tooth's giggle. "Well," he said, smiling at the other two. "I'm glad someone's amused."

Sandy made an image of- was that the old Wal-Mart smiley face?

Jack rolled his eyes, and went back to assuring himself of his rabbit's relative health.

North returned not long after, accompanied by a familiar yeti. "Phil," Jack said, and got off the bed. He ignored the yeti's intent scrutiny and pulled on the pajama bottoms North gave him. It was almost a relief to shrug off the heavy coat. Between the silk lining, the heavy quilting, and equally heavy wool, it was really too warm for him. The pajama bottoms were better, even if it was strange to feel cloth against his calves and thighs. He'd worn only a loincloth for so long, he'd quite gotten used to being the next best thing to naked.

Now... He blushed again, and crossed his arms over his chest. From huge and muscled to short and scrawny... Did Aster still want him?

Well, yes, _that_ was obvious enough. How much of the lust in Aster's gaze was due to the drugs and relief, though, he couldn't have said.

Phil growled something, the yeti word almost familiar. Jack turned around, and raised both eyebrows.

"What?"

North sighed. "Phil, this is Jack. I know he looks different- hey!"

Jack snarled something a bit less polite, but Phil didn't let go. He continued to squeeze Jack tightly, the hug more suited to someone with stronger bones.

Phil ended the hug, but caught both hands under Jack's arms and held him out at arm's length, going on in yetish. It sounded enthusiastic, whatever it was. Jack considered kicking him.

"Later," North snapped, and gestured for Phil to put Jack down. He did, with some reluctance. Jack escaped to Aster's bed.

Of course, once he was lying down, the exhaustion dragged him under, into sleep, before he could fight it. Not that he tried too hard. Whatever else, he knew this was not a dream. And it was just so nice to curl up against Aster's side, one arm over the rabbit's chest, one leg over both of Aster's...

Also, he was fairly certain Sandy cheated and hit him with dreamsand. But by then he was asleep, and it no longer mattered.

When all was said and done, Aster was just as pleased it took two days before anyone felt capable of talking over the events of the fight. His fur, short as it was, had always grown quickly, so after two days he didn't look like a victim of fleas anymore. And he also took the time to sleep, nothing like the dead; the dead didn't have to wake up.

Jack slept just as much as Aster, if not more. Half the time he had to be woken up for meals; he'd eat just enough of the food on offer to keep a small dog alive, and then conk back out. It would have been more worrying than it was if Aster hadn't known why he was sleeping so much. Just because Jack could channel and form magic outside of his own, didn't mean it didn't take his own magic- and his own _energy_ \- to do said channeling and forming. And as the Ice Lord, with the mantle of winter, he had access to vast amounts of magic. The effort it must have taken, atop nearly dying and changing back to his human shape...

Aster contented himself with curling around Jack's now-tiny form, head tucked under the Pooka's chin so that even in sleep, Aster marked him. His mate, his beloved.

And if his hands wandered under the covers, well... what of it? Jack certainly wouldn't mind if he were awake. And Aster couldn't seem to get enough of touching Jack's skin, so soft and creamy, pale as porcelain and utterly unmarked. He didn't even have any calluses' on his hands or feet, which would probably change in the future. For the moment, however... And oh, the changes in Jack's frame! Now, instead of big and bulky like a polar bear, he was long and sleek like a snow leopard. The feral beauty had softened, but it was still there. He looked even more graceful than before, with long arms and legs that seemed to go on forever, graceful hands with slender fingers, and narrow feet with long, delicate toes.

Aster wanted to lick and suck those toes, kiss the fragile seeming ankles and mouth a line up the shapely calf to the slightly knobby knee. He refrained. There would be plenty of time for that, later. When they had more privacy, and Jack could stay awake.

And then... He chuckled whenever his thoughts turned in the direction of his nest in the Warren. Tooth and Sandy had long since passed giving him odd looks by the first day.

By late afternoon on the second day, though, it seemed Jack had mostly slept himself out. He insisted on their relocating to a sitting room for the inevitable talk.

"Else I'll forget how to walk," he'd grumbled, much of the force gone with his change in appearance and voice.

The two of them held hands as they walked down the hall.

The sitting room was, as he should have figured, the usual one. Jack started to move towards his normal chair, one of the few pieces of furniture up to his old weight, before he stopped and laughed.

Aster ground his teeth together in a purr, then bent down and nuzzled his chin into Jack's hair.

"I can sit on a couch," Jack said, and grinned up at him. "I'd forgotten."

"Gonna take you a few before you're adjusted," he agreed. "Sit with me."

"Did you say 'on you'?" Jack asked, with his best innocent expression.

Aster smirked.

Sandy and Tooth were kind enough to ignore them. They got settled on the couch, Jack curled up on Aster's lap, fingers tangled in the long guard hairs on his chest, when North came in.

He was accompanied by the little winter sheila who'd told them of Jack's trouble.

Jack stiffened on Aster's lap. "Elsa!"

The little one sniffed, and looked around the room. "I don't see milord," she said, voice quavering. "You helped him, didn't you?"

Poor little mite.

Jack slid down off Aster's lap, and moved over to the winter sprite. "Elsa, it's me. Jack Frost."

She scowled. It was more cute than anything. "You're not milord! Milord is big and strong and-"

Jack drew himself up to his full height, which was rather less than impressive compared to how he'd used to be, and raised one eyebrow. He did seem to enjoy being able to move his eyebrows. **_"Elsa,"_** he said, voice the rumble-shriek of before, **_"I am the Ice Lord."_**

He stopped, and cleared his throat. "I forgot how much that itches the throat," he muttered, and crouched down again. "I-"

Elsa cut him off, lunging forwards and wrapping her arms around his neck. He grunted; her shoulder had hit him in the throat. "I'm glad you're not dead, milord," she murmured, and pulled back. She looked both shy and delighted, and skittered away before Jack could respond. Ironically, her chosen seat was Jack's former spot.

Jack returned to Aster's lap, looking bemused.

"Good, good, we are all here," North said, and clapped his hands. Then he frowned when the yeti, Phil, pushed into the room. "What? Неужели вы не работа, чтобы сделать, Фил? Иди, ладить с ней!"

Phil shook his head, and grumbled back. Aster's yetish wasn't so good, but he rather thought Phil said Jack was the closest Phil had to a _friend_. Well, how about that?

Jack frowned, not understanding. Aster could tell him later.

"Right," North said. " _Now_ we are all here. Hrmph."

Aster smirked, and nuzzled Jack's ear.

Jack batted him away, but not seriously. "That tickles," he grumbled, and then looked around the room. "I suppose you all have questions."

They all nodded, but Phil spoke up first. He didn't go on for very long, but he was very passionate. Before Jack could ask for a translation, North spoke up.

"I have told you and told you! Ice Lord and Jack Frost one and same! Transformation by _magic_ , Phil!"

 Phil looked dubious, but clearly gave in, admittedly with bad grace. Jack rolled his eyes.

"He's right," he said, nodding to North. "My personal magic was... Huh."

Aster nudged at him to continue.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's only... Everyone, most powerful spirits, have a core, don't we?"

Well, yes. Aster's was Hope, North was Wonder, Tooth was Memory, and Sandy was Dreams. They didn't just guard those emotions and inspire them in children. "Yeah..."

"Joy," Jack said, and smiled.

At first, it didn't make sense. If anything, Aster would have said 'duty' or something, but... Joy? Jack hadn't seemed at all joyful, but for odd moments...

But if he'd been lacking joy, with a damaged core, that would explain the transformation, wouldn't it? "You... turned into the Ice Lord, because you didn't have any joy?" he asked, to confirm.

"Essentially." Jack looked down at his hands. "I... I didn't have anything to be happy _about_. And when my magic turned inwards, my core..." He sighed. "Well, I turned into the Ice Lord, and you all know what I was like then. But..." He smiled up at Aster.

"But?"

Jack cupped one hand against the side of Aster's muzzle. "You make me happy," he said, and grinned.

There was more to it, he suspected, but... He also didn't want to question it. He made Jack happy. And Jack made _him_ happy. If that had somehow fixed things so Jack returned to human form, and survived those horrible injuries...

He shivered, and pulled his mate close. Not dead, he reminded himself. Still here. Not the same, now a perfect armful, but still here.

Jack hummed under his breath, and combed his fingers through Aster's fur. "C'mon, long ears. I can't answer questions like this."

Well, true. He loosened up his grip, a little.

The little girl, Elsa, squealed and clapped her hands in delight. "You're so cute!"

Jack gave her an odd look. "Are we?"

"I _knew_ Mr. Bunny was making you happy!"

"Very happy," Jack agreed, and resettled himself. "Next question?"

Elsa held up one hand. "My lord? Did you... did you know that they...?" She trailed off, and bit her lower lip.

Jack sighed. "I suspected, but I did not know. They would have hurt you if I had declined the invitation," he said.

Her eyes watered. "Thank you, my lord!"

Tooth opened her mouth, though what she'd intended to say was cut off before she could start. Two figures of ice began to form in the middle of the room, with agonizingly slow speed, until Jack extended one arm and focused. The power he fed the duo was visible as a form of reverse heat shimmer in the air.

With the added power, the two forms coalesced, into Loptr and Katya's actual bodies. They did not seem confused by Jack's appearance; rather, they were glaring, and hoar frost covered the floor nearest them.

"My lord," Katya said, with a flip of her wings. "You are a massive _idiot_."

Jack... snickered.

Loptr made an odd rumbling sound, much like crocodiles and alligators could do. "Have you any idea how _worried_ we were for you?"

"If you weren't watching through the ice, I'll... Hm. Eat my old loincloth, plain. Well?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

Ice wyrm and ice phoenix both shifted uneasily, the visible effects of their ire beginning to fade. "Well," Katya said, "we were, but then you came here and we couldn't get a good view."

"And then you took two days?" Jack prodded.

Loptr's annoyed rumbling got louder. " _We_ were busy dealing with every minor winter elemental that had flocked to the fortress! Nineteen match girls, one hundred and twenty snow maidens, a living snowman- we locked that one up in the dungeon because he wouldn't stop _singing_. Off key!"

Jack stiffened up as Loptr spoke, and just as Aster started to worry, he cracked.

Cracked up laughing, that is.

He laughed so hard he actually fell off Aster's lap, despite the Pooka's gentle grip on his shoulders. He curled up on his side in a fetal position, laughing until he was gasping for breath, tears running down his cheeks. He calmed slowly, and finally uncurled. "Singing what?" he asked, sounding utterly out of breath.

Aster's fingers twitched. Oh, that was a good way for Jack to speak. It dropped his brain right into the gutter, and he did not care.

"The latest pop sensations," Loptr said, as dry as liquid nitrogen.

Jack howled with laughter again.

He calmed down eventually, and relaxed where he was, on the floor. "Why would they come to my fortress?" he asked.

Katya shrugged. "You have always stood against the Terrible Trio."

"And now they are dead," he said, with obvious satisfaction.

"Try convincing _them_ of that," Loptr said. "They are children, my lord- well, the snowman isn't, but the snowman was singing " _hey baby hey_ ", so I'm not at all certain it's even _sentient_. But the rest are children, every last one having a case of histrionics!"

Jack snickered, but didn't, thankfully, howl with laughter again. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Loptr. I doubt they'd accept my assurances."

Elsa cleared her throat. "My lord?"

"Yes?"

She swung her legs back and forth, little heels drumming against the chair. "I could talk to them. The match girls are my sisters, and the snow maidens should listen to me too. If you wanted."

Jack sat back up, and reclined against Aster's legs. "That could work," he said, and looked over at his creations. "Well?"

Katya preened several feathers on one wing, before shrugging. "I suppose you won't be coming back for a few days?"

"At least," Jack said. "I'm... Katya, I'm tired. I'm pretty sure that if I wasn't dead, I was seconds away from it. My magic has changed _again_. And, I'm not sure you noticed, it's been pretty subtle, but my personality seems to have altered."

Loptr and Katya both stared at him. Loptr finally spoke up. "No, you can't tell there's a difference at all, my lord."

Aster reached down, and gathered Jack into his arms. One very good thing about his mate's new-old body, that. Jack didn't protest the renewal of cuddling.

"Well, there you are, then," Jack told his creations. "Oh. Toes. Almost forgot that. I have toes now."

"Really?" Katya studied her feathers. "I never would have noticed."

"Yes," Loptr said. "You look the same otherwise."

"Liars." He closed his eyes, and really, he did _look_ tired. His face seemed drawn, the flesh tight over his cheekbones and forehead, and he had dark bags under his eyes the size of his thumb. His lips were chapped. And Aster didn't know if Jack was supposed to be that pale or not, but he was tinged _blue_ instead of pink.

Aster brushed one hand over Jack's forehead, and Jack opened his eyes.

"Nothing," Aster murmured. "You just look..."

Jack looked away. "Elsa, would you be willing to go help calm your sisters down now?"

The young girl nodded, and dropped down off the chair. "Of course, my lord! They're probably crying." She wrinkled her nose. "We- _they_ cry a lot."

"People do, when frightened."

Loptr and Katya urged the child between them, and then began to concentrate. The three shimmered, and then slowly faded out of existence. Once they were gone, the last of the hoar frost coating the floor began to melt.

"Well," Tooth said. "That completely- I don't remember what I was going to ask you."

Jack raised his eyebrows, and twisted like a cat to look at her. " _You_ don't remember?"

Tooth mock-scowled at him. "I'll remember in a bit. Someone else ask a question."

Well, Aster had one. "Jack," he said, and hesitated. "Jack, you said you'd... died."

Jack reached up and cupped one hand against Aster's muzzle again. "Well, I'm not dead now, whatever happened."

"Jack. How did you _survive_?"

The others leaned forward, clearly interested in the answer as well.

Jack sighed, but smiled all the same. "Alright, alright... I'll tell you. Promise not to freak out."

He nodded, cautiously. "Alright," he said, and looked over at the others. They all murmured their agreements as well, although Sandy did a thumbs up instead.

Jack cleared his throat. "You know that the Terrible Trio... beat me terribly. They broke my staff into many, many pieces. I had no idea it was tied to my life force! It's why I never..." He licked his lips, and glanced up at Aster. "Well. You know. When I was trying to... The staff was whole, so I didn't."

Aster considered that, and then hugged Jack, eyes clenched shut. What if Jack had realized that, and succeeded in what he'd been trying to do? Aster would never have gotten the chance to know him, to fall in love, to... Well. It hadn't happened.

But he'd be having nightmares after this, he was sure of it. Pitch wouldn't even be involved.

"So they broke my staff," Jack said, once Aster had eased up on the hug. "And they beat me to the point where I was dying, with no possible way to heal. General Winter wanted the winter mantle, I think I remember him saying. Something about the two ladies standing back so that when I died... Anyways. It takes several minutes for the brain to die, did you know that? Even when the heart's no longer beating, and the person isn't breathing, there's still some brain activity going on."

"No," North said. "I had not known that. Is... how you died, without dying?"

Jack shrugged. "I suppose. It's as good an explanation as any. I _know_ I was thinking, even though my heart had stopped. I- when my magical core healed all of a sudden..." Jack blushed, the frost crawling over his cheeks and down his neck. And the look he shot Aster was shy, hopeful, and delighted. "Well, I suppose when I turned back human, my injuries didn't... Although I do feel a bit bruised," he admitted. "Nothing worse than I'd get from, say, hiking several hours through thigh deep snow without magic."

"Your staff?" Tooth prompted, for Sandy. Jack wasn't looking anywhere but his hands now, the assistance had been necessary.

"Right. As the Ice Lord, I taught myself to do magic without it, though there were limits," Jack said. "I don't know how to explain how I fixed it... I just, it's mine, it... just, fixed itself."

He shrugged, and looked helplessly around the room. "And you all saw what happened after."

Sandy nodded, and tapped his fist into his palm, grinning. North chuckled, and turned to Phil. "Jack kicked Terrible Trio _butt_. They have died and bells will ring!"

Phil rolled his eyes, but nodded to Jack.

Things settled after that. Tooth did remember her question- why Jack's hair, which had been just to his shoulders as the Ice Lord, was now down to the bottom of his shoulder blades, and whether there was a magical significance. It would likely be longer without the tangles, and Aster determined that he'd get his mate to hold still and submit to a proper grooming, soon.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "Maybe my hair didn't transform... although it did change from blue to white. Mostly."

After that, though, it seemed no one else could think of any questions. After several minutes of silence, Aster stood up, Jack cradled in his arms. "Look, Frostbite's tired, I'm tired, we're all tired. He's not going to up and vanish, so if you come up with more questions, well, you can just ask him then. But right now we're going back to my Warren-"

"Oh, we are, are we?" Jack asked, wiggling a little in Aster's grip. "And why are we going back to _your_ home, hm?"

Aster raised one eyebrow. "You really think you'll get any rest at your Fortress, with crying tin lids, weepy sheilas, and a singing snowman?"

"Tin lid?" Jack muttered, and shook his head. "Well, no, I suppose not."

"There you are then. My Warren's quiet, at least. We'll head over, kip a bit, and go from there when we wake up."

Jack nodded, and rolled his eyes. "I'm tired enough to have trouble understanding that. Don't expect me to walk, though."

"She'll be apples," Aster said, and nodded to the others. "Later, then."

"Goodnight, Bunny," Tooth said. "Sleep well."

North chuckled, and pointedly eyed Jack, eyes closed again and utterly relaxed in Aster's grip. "Yes. _Sleep_ well."

Sandy waggled his eyebrows.

"You two are horrible people," Aster said, fondly. "And I'm not talking to you anymore. Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as per my overlord and ma- wait, what? Sorry? Oh, right. Correction- as per my editor, Corgi, I'm not supposed to post more often unless and until I have four chapters each of both new fics I'm going to be posting shortly, Ghost and Assassins.
> 
> ... Guess who's got four chapters each of both Ghost and Assassins? -evil laughter-
> 
> Also, smut next chapter! And the chapter after that. Mmm, some very fun smut, oh my yes...


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Waking up with an armful of Jack Frost was a lovely way to start the day, Aster thought, and nuzzled Jack's hair. His mate was still asleep, hardly unexpected. Well, as long as he was asleep... Time to fix up that hair of his. It was almost matted in places, and in others tangled into the beginnings of dreadlocks. _Not_ appropriate, whatever the Ice Lord's shape.

If he'd been more awake at North's, he'd already have taken care of this little task, but- well, he hadn't. And there was no time like the present.

Jack murmured in his sleep when Aster got started, working at the ends of Jack's hair. Humans. Just what purpose growing long hair that didn't even insulate their heads properly served, he didn't know... It looked good, though.

Aster started with his fingers, patiently working at the knots with his claws. It took time, and as much concentration and fine motor control as painting one of his eggs, but he had practice at the one and that helped with the other. And really, until his mate woke up, there wasn't much else to do. Easter was just over, he wasn't hungry, and he didn't feel like sleeping any longer.

He'd managed to get things to the point where he could run his fingers through Jack's hair, and probably a comb if he'd tried, when his mate woke up.

"Mm..." Jack cracked one eye open. "That feels nice."

"You don't even sound sleepy."

Jack shrugged, awkwardly since he was lying down, and smirked. "I'm just lucky."

Luck had nothing to do with it, Aster bet. "Well, morning. Is there anything you feel like for brekkie?"

Jack made a face. Aster pulled his hand away from his hair. Did he not enjoy the sensation or something? That was a shame. Without the tangles, his hair was long and silken, and quite striking in color. Maybe he was just unused to it as yet.

"I'm not hungry," Jack said. He frowned at Aster.

"You've got to eat, Jack."

"I don't _have_ to do anything."

Aster stared at him, gaze level and calm. "No," he said, once Jack had looked away and started picking at the blanket, "you don't. But you'll feel better."

"There is no need," Jack muttered, "to bring logic into things."

He smiled. "Being logical is my idea of fun, mate. So, what're you in the mood for? Eggs, or, well... eggs?"

Jack's expression was the picture definition of 'deadpan'. "You let your larder get empty again, didn't you?"

"Probably. Should be something in the garden, too."

"I'm sure there are worse diets than yours, but I can't think of any."

Aster smirked, and stood up. "Well? How many eggs do you want, and how do you want them?"

"Oh, forget the eggs." He looked away. "I think I just want to sleep some more."

Aster stopped smirking. "Is something wrong?"

"Why would something be wrong?"

The Pooka sighed; now Jack was glaring. "Because you're sulking. I... aren't you happy you're human again? Toes, and all that?"

Jack's glare got worse. "Of course I am!"

"Then what's with all the frowning, hm?" He crouched down again.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and hissed, " _Don't_ talk to me as if I'm a child!"

Aster raised his eyebrows. "Certainly didn't mean to."

Jack clenched his jaw, until a muscle twitched from the tension, and looked away. Aster studied his profile, most of his attention on his mate's appearance rather than his apparent ire. As the Ice Lord, he'd had a rugged look, a shade or two uncanny to be handsome, but too striking to be ugly. As Jack Frost, human, that was far from the case. His white hair, with its one blue streak, was breathtaking; he had clear, pale skin that Aster knew was just as soft and smooth as it looked, and in contrast to his hair, his eyebrows were dark, dark brown, with a gentle curve over his eyes. His nose wasn't the flat thing he'd had as the Ice Lord. Now it was almost pixie in appearance, short, not too jutting, and the tip just slightly upturned. His jaw line was still masculine, but softer now, and his lips weren't as thin. Overall, his face looked meant for smiling, which made the near scowl so jarring.

"Jack?" he asked, and tilted his head slightly.

If Jack smiled... Aster wondered just where he'd put his sketchbook and pencils.

"Do you want me to go back?" Jack asked, scowl shifting into something a little less angry, a touch more despairing. "Like- like that?"

"Go... back? Back where?" Had he missed something?

Jack nodded to the painting hung on the wall. "You... you liked me then. But now... You haven't kissed me or anything."

Aster blinked once, twice, and shook his head. No, that still... "Jack, I haven't kissed you because you've mostly been asleep." He prowled forward on all fours, until he straddled Jack's body. Their faces were, at best, an inch apart; too much of a distance. "But, if it's kissing you want..."

It took a few infinitesimal adjustments- Jack's nose jutted out more, now, and his... _everything_... was smaller- but after a second or two things finally clicked.

Jack whined, and pressed upward into the contact. Aster licked at Jack's lips, quickly escalating things to the point where his mate was prone in the nest, arms wrapped around Aster's shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles of his back. It was a bit strange, and very exciting, to have Jack, his Jack, _under_ him, so small and fragile now, squirming against him as he mapped out the inside of Jack's mouth with his tongue.

He pulled back only when red and black dots were dancing in front of his eyes, and gasped for breath. Jack wheezed, and his fingers were trembling as he ran his hands up and down over Aster's shoulders.

"Well," Aster said, and pressed back down once he'd caught his breath.

Jack bucked up against him, and then wrapped both legs around one thigh.  He made several indistinct movements, that could have either been trying to pull away or trying to press closer, and only succeeded in grinding his hips up, his erection half-hard and starting to tent the front of his pajama pants.

Aster pulled away again, and pressed his own burgeoning erection against Jack's. "We," he said, and groaned as Jack thrust his hips upwards. "We should- hold a mo, Frostbite."

"Hold- why're we stopping?" Jack caught two fistfuls of fur, and tugged. "You want to stop?"

Aster nuzzled Jack's jaw, until the panic left his mate's eyes. "No, I don't want to stop, but before we go further your pants need off." He licked his lips. "And I need to get some oil, if... if that's right with you."

"Oh." Jack blinked, and looked down at himself. "Pants. Right. Off. Oil for lubrication?"

"Mmhm." How would Jack feel if Aster bit down right... _there_? Apparently pretty good, if the resulting shout and full-body convulsion was an indicator.

"That's not getting my pants off any faster," Jack gasped, once he'd stopped twitching.

Point. Good point. Aster reared back and started fumbling with the drawstring. A moment later Jack shoved his hands away and took over, his fingers somehow steadier. The only real difficulty was in convincing Jack to unwrap his legs from around Aster's thigh. Once the pajama pants were off, Aster threw them to one side and forgot about them.

He had to take a moment just to _look_. "Crikey," he muttered. He wrapped one hand around Jack's ankle, and rubbed his thumb against the knobby inside. "Should be illegal for you to look that good."

Jack smirked at him, all long and lean, like a figure skater. His hips were visible, as were his ribs, his muscle primarily in his limbs and back. His scars were gone, Aster absently noticed, probably a result of the transformation. In a way, that was a shame; he'd enjoyed tracing them with his tongue.

His prick was smaller now, but the white curls at the base were the same. Aster grinned, and once more draped himself over his mate's body like an amorous, furry blanket.

"Ah..." Jack's eyes were half-closed, and he shifted his hips as much as possible. Probably the sensation of fur against his groin. Even after all the playing around they'd been doing, it had to still be unfamiliar. "Lube?" he said, and then groaned.

"Mmhm, I got it right here." At the edge of the nest, where he kept it. One vial in his bandolier, one beside the nest, so he always had something available if it came up.

He pulled back, as much so Jack could regain his ability to think as because there'd be no getting the oil where it was meant to go otherwise.

"Ah, Jack?" He stroked one hand down his mate's flank, watching with an entirely justified and smug air as Jack's prick twitched.

"Yeah? Oh. The oil." Jack spread his legs a little more. "Well?"

Aster's eyes widened. "You, uh, you want _me_ on top?"

Jack somehow lost his air of partially debauched pleasure, and glared. "Let's pretend a moment that I'm a virgin who only _just_ learnt about the _mechanics_ of sex several months ago. Oh, wait, that's _the truth_. You think _I_ know what I'm doing with this?"

"Alright, alright, you've made your point..." Aster studied the vial of oil, and then looked back down at Jack. "You'll have to stretch yourself," he said, apologetically. "My fingers aren't exactly..."

"Stretch..." Jack blanched, and his thighs twitched as though about to clamp shut. "Put _my_ fingers in _there_?"

Aster huffed, and all but rolled his eyes. "Well, how'd you think this'd work? Yes, put your fingers in _'there'_. Otherwise it'll _hurt_ , mate."

"Why would it hurt? You've got the oil. If you just... used a lot of it and went really slowly..." Jack scrubbed one hand over his face, flaking off frost. "Couldn't we try _that_?"

Jack was... He was going to let Aster put his cock up his ass, but he didn't want _fingers_ in there? Aster was confident in his ability to make Jack feel good even if they _did_ go with his suggestion of just lubing up and shoving in. Well, maybe a little pain at the start would convince Jack of the necessity of stretching first. Or maybe losing his virginity would just show him how foolish it was to fret about fingers in odd places.

"Alright," he said, and uncorked the oil. "If you insist. You're going to regret this, I'm sure."

Jack lost his faintly prudish expression, and smirked. "I doubt that."

He watched, hungrily, as Aster poured out a measure of the oil onto his palm, and then stroked himself, making sure to thoroughly cover his cock in the lubricant. He couldn't help but smirk himself when Jack licked his lips.

"Alright," he said, and positioned the tip of his cock at Jack's entrance. At least he didn't have a human-like penis, with a blunt tip. Oh, he was broader at the base, but his cock was smooth, and narrowed to a much smaller point. Jack would still regret his decision to do things this way, at least until Aster soothed away the pain with hands and mouth, but it'd be easier on him.

Jack hissed when he first pushed in, and then fell silent. Aster went as slowly as he possibly could, at a maddening non-pace that had him digging his claws into the mattress and gritting his teeth. Jack was clearly trying not to tense up, but the moment he relaxed Aster would push in a little more, and every muscle would clench against the intrusion.

Finally, finally, Aster was fully seated in Jack. He held very still as his mate panted, head tilted back to expose the long line of his throat. Jack was clenched painfully tight around Aster's cock, lube or no lube. He shifted a touch, trying to make things more comfortable for the both of them, and saw stars.

He blinked the spots from his vision, and huffed. Whoops.

Jack poked the side of his head with one finger. "Did you just orgasm?"

"Ah..." Oh, how embarrassing! Although really, it was Jack's fault for being so bloody _tight_. "Sorry."

Jack snickered, and then laughed. Aster pushed himself up onto his elbows, still fully seated in his mate and hardening again, did Jack but know it, and glared. Bloody wanker. Time to show him...

Aster pulled out, almost as slowly as he'd first pushed in, and when he thrust in again he was fully hard. Jack's laughter turned to a long, drawn out groan, and he scrabbled desperately at Aster's shoulders while the Pooka slowly worked him over. Aster had to prop himself up with one arm, so he only had one hand free to touch and caress. He made up for it by twisting in the near boneless way Pooka had, to lick and nibble at Jack's nipples.

That made his mate cry out and clench around him. Aster bore it for several thrusts, before he couldn't help but come again, collapsing on Jack and driving all the breath out of him.

He recovered in less than a minute, and went back to driving his mate to distraction. When Jack came, with a scream and a yank on Aster's fur, it tossed him over the edge as well. He bit down on Jack's neck, just below the ear, and muffled his bellow against his mate's flesh.

Aster panted for breath, and considered his options. It was perfectly possible for him to start up and go another few rounds, but Jack... Jack blinked sleepily at him, his grin the goofiest expression Aster had ever seen. Yeah, Jack wasn't ready for another few rounds.

"Hi," Jack said, and tapped one finger on Aster's nose. "You're cute. I sleep now."

Aster blinked several times, as Jack did just that. Aster's softened cock was still up his ass, he had semen oozing across his stomach and down his sides, and... he just closed his eyes and started snoring. It wasn't an act, either.

Well. Alright then. He pulled out, his prick starting to retract back into his sheath, and shook his head ruefully. He had a mate to clean up, not to mention himself- dried semen in his fur was not comfortable- and then he had a mind to make breakfast.

He could ponder the human male habit of falling asleep immediately after sex while he worked. At least Jack was cute while he slept... and he had a feeling they'd having a lot more sex in the near future. Maybe Jack would be able to stay awake longer once he was used to it.

And maybe, Aster thought, suddenly amused, Jack wouldn't feel quite so squeamish about stretching himself out before Aster went shoving in there!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the smut has arrived! (And Jack... next time don't be so squeamish about fingers in odd places. Yeesh.)


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Jack was rather thankful his throne was made out of ice. Not that he hurt, exactly, but after five days of 'recuperating' in Aster's Warren, his rear was somewhat... sore. The frequent, enthusiastic, and at times highly athletic sex no doubt was to blame. He couldn't find it in himself to regret any of it.

The only problem he was having with the sex and Aster and- all that nonsense- was that his alien rabbit was quite determined to focus each and every moment on Jack. Instead of, say, letting Jack do any of the work, Aster took it all on his shoulders. It was annoying, and heading towards aggravating. And how did one complain about that? _"I quite enjoy every thrust and that thing you do with your tongue, but if you don't roll over and let me do some of this I'm going to freeze your balls solid"_? Even if Aster preferred to be the one on 'top', so to speak, couldn't he lie back and let Jack... well, play? He barely had any chance to explore his mate's body, let alone make Aster feel so good he came just from light petting alone.

Jack kept his annoyed huff completely mental. And he'd been worried Aster preferred his old, Ice Lord shape to his now human appearance. Clearly, he'd been wrong- and at this point he'd have preferred just a little hesitance, so that sex didn't feel completely one-sided!

Being worshiped was... nice, it _was_ , just... it got old after a while.

Very old.

He dragged his attention back to the matters currently at hand, instead of trying to figure out how he'd handle Aster when the Pooka showed up that evening. Jack had his duty, after all, but there was no reason he had to spend all day and night brooding over his globe...

...or his new court.

The Snow Maidens and match girls were quite desperately thankful to him for getting rid of the Terrible Trio, and he did his best not to think too hard on _that_ , either. It would only make him angry. They were, one and all, quite timid. The slightest hint of irritation made them fall all over each other to apologize, and the match girls, at least, cry. Granted, Jack had only been back at the Fortress for a single day, and the Terrible Trio had only been dead for a week, but still.

Elsa was invaluable dealing with her 'sisters'. They seemed to try Loptr and Katya's patience, even. Jack had gone through and given each match girl the 'treatment' he'd given Elsa. Now they were all healthy looking specimens of winter spirit-hood.

They were just _weepy_.

The snow maidens were just as weepy, but they were presumably older, so they should have known better! Or perhaps not, Jack thought, a touch uncharitably; they seemed like the type of girls who had been raised expressly to make good wives. Gentle, meek, without a thought in their heads. Perhaps it was uncharitable of him, but they had yet to make an impression on him beyond that.

At the moment, they were twittering to each other, watching him warily. Whenever one spoke loudly, it was in praise of him. Empty praise, in his opinion.

It had been going on all morning. The one good thing about it was that he'd been left alone to think, contemplate his globe, brood a little, and think some more.

But there were limits, and he had reached his!

"Enough," he said, and the quietly gabbing flock of females quieted, looking terrified. They all stared at him, except for Elsa, who just shook her head and sighed.

Jack almost smiled, when an idea popped into his head, fully formed. "If you will not leave, and I suppose it is too much to ask you to go out where you might be abused, then decide on your new residences. The buildings outside the fortress are all unclaimed. Make your choices, and do not come back until everyone has a new dwelling."

They held in place for an instant, before immediately turning and- fleeing was not _quite_ the right word, but it was very close. It took a minute for the room to clear, but that was only because of how many people had to get through the door.

Jack slumped over on his throne, and sighed. "Why," he asked, "are females so hard to deal with?"

"Not females," Elsa said. " _Them_. They'd be the same if they were boys, I swear."

Jack raised his eyebrows in silent question. Elsa smiled prettily.

"Miss. Katya and Mr. Loptr already said I can live in here," she said. "They showed me where my room can be. It's in a completely different wing than yours, my lord, so you and Mr. Bunny can... do as you like and not have to worry about being overheard." She giggled, as much at Jack's expression, no doubt, as thinking about just what things would be overheard.

Jack blushed slightly at the idea. "You're a child," he protested. "You shouldn't know about that."

"Oh, it was up skirts and down trous when I was alive," she said, quite cheerfully. "And my mother was a whore when she was alive. We didn't have nowhere to sleep, so I'd often come back to the alley with her rutting with a customer. I knew all about how babies were made by the time I was five. And how to get rid of them," she added, her smile fading. "But I don't like to think about that."

"Neither would I," he agreed. "Very well. Go, ah..."

"Manage my sisters," she said, firmly. Very firmly. "Someone needs to, and it might as well be me. And there'll be more coming after them, I'm sure. Not all the fierce fighters in winter liked the- the Terrible Trio, you called them, my lord?"

Jack nodded, almost amused now by the child's chattering. "It's as good a name for them as any."

"So it is," she agreed. "I think most of the law abiding will fall under your leadership soon, by next summer, anyways. They'll probably all gather here, instead of up in Greenland."

"So there really was a yearly gathering of winter spirits?"

Elsa looked down at the floor, and fiddled with the hem of her smock. "Yes, my lord. It, um, every year. Mostly it was so the Terrible Trio could complain about you."

"Complain about me?" He'd known they hadn't liked him, but... complain about him? "Elsa, I know Mother Nature didn't like me because I undermined her storms during winter, and other times as well. But to be honest I don't know why the Terrible Trio didn't like me."

"They _hated_ you," she corrected him. "And..." She chewed her lower lip. "I don't know all of it, only what I've overheard," she said.

"Fair enough."

"I think that, for some reason, they couldn't do as many nasty things after you woke up Jack Frost as they used to. I remember, back when I was very young as a sprite, they'd... do things. The Snow Queen would kidnap boys and turn them into monsters, and General Winter would freeze people in their beds even in the stoutest homes, and Rin-Sama killed whole villages, I think. But after people started talking about you, they couldn't. Just... just _couldn't_."

Interesting. And it suggested that there was a deeper reason as to why they couldn't; perhaps even a deeper reason to why Mother Nature had been against him from the first he'd met her. Had it anything to do with how he could tap into the subtle, low level magic of snow, or use the belief humans had in winter to his own ends?

"Why didn't they try to kill me, then?" he asked.

"I don't know. It's not as if they'd have talked to any of us, except to give orders. Maybe they couldn't. You didn't stop moving around until you became the Ice Lord. And... I think when you did, they got a little more power back, because they did make all those nasty storms until you told them to stop."

Jack drummed his fingers against the arm of his throne. "Interesting," he finally said. "I will have to look into that, I think. It sounds... It sounds like the moon might have meddled."

"The moon?" Elsa wrinkled her nose. "The moon's just a rock up in the sky, my lord. It can't do anything."

It was very tempting to crow with laughter, but Jack suppressed the urge. For the moment. "Indeed," he said, as dryly as he could. "You'd better go tend to your sisters, or they'll all try to pack into one house, I'm sure."

"Or they're in hysterics at having to decide," she said, and sighed. "Oh, well. Maybe once they're adjusted to the idea that they're safe, they won't be so... empty headed."

Once the door had closed behind her, Jack lost control and laughed.

And laughed.

And, finally, wheezing, calmed down. If only because he couldn't breathe.

"She doesn't believe in him," he said, looking over at Katya and Loptr.

His creations smirked in reply.

"Clearly a symptom of a greater trend, I'm sure," Katya said.

Loptr added, "Humans have been to the moon, and _they_ haven't seen anything. Mind, they wouldn't if they didn't believe, but..."

"But it is the same problem that I had faced; no way to give proof of one's existence. Or, well, no way that couldn't be explained by adults, for me. I never did try making it snow in summer, or indoors."

"Because Seraphina would have torn the skin from your back," Loptr said.

"No," Jack said. "Worse. She'd have _lectured_ me."

Katya shuddered. "That woman's voice could have shattered granite, never mind glass," she said. "Now, I believe you will want to look over in the vicinity of New Zealand, my lord. There is something strange about the cloud formations there..."

Jack looked up when the library door cracked open, and smiled. "Aster. Come in."

"Frostbite, there's a lot of... females... hanging around your throne room." Aster looked back over his shoulder, apparently wary. Well, if he'd run into the snow maidens and match girls, Jack couldn't blame him. Had they tried to weep on his shoulder? Flinched back because he was male? Or tried to fondle his ears and coo over the 'cute little bunny rabbit'?

"Apparently I have a court. A..." His smile turned into a wicked grin. "A _summer_ court."

"A what?" Aster shut the door behind him, firmly. Very firmly. "Aren't you all winter spirits?"

"And you, you're spring, but no. What I mean is that we gather in the summer. If the summer spirits want to gather in winter, I imagine they'd call themselves the winter court. There's no point in gathering during one's working period, after all."

"No, of course not," Aster said, and crossed the room. "What're you reading?"

Jack closed the book, making sure to keep his thumb between the pages to mark his spot. "Research," he said. The leather bindings had no title embossed or burnt into the cover, and the pages were handwritten. In some variant of Latin; early French or Italian, maybe, before it had moved too far away from the parent language. It was slow going, because unlike certain other languages he'd taken the time to learn, in this he had to translate mentally as he went. "Elsa said something about the Terrible Trio that made me question a few things."

"Such as?" Aster sat down on the couch nearby, sprawling a bit. Jack sniffed carefully at the air. He was no bloodhound, but even he could pick up the scent of freshly turned earth and paint. Gardening and painting. No doubt the rabbit was pleasantly tired, though Jack also had no doubt that Aster would be raring to go if he so much as hinted at sex.

Well, did he _want_ to go without sex? To be perfectly honest, not really. Even if he was annoyed with Aster, sex was fun. No, he'd have to talk to his mate, explain both that he was annoyed and why, and then they'd go from there.

Although preferably they'd go from there to the bedroom. Jack didn't really want to have sex in the library. It'd feel wrong.

And the doors didn't lock.

Although, Jack could have made it so they wouldn't open, but... that wasn't the point. Besides, a bed would just be more comfortable, wouldn't it?

He marked his place in the book, and closed it. Now that Aster was here, he wasn't going to be doing any further research. Or, no research into just why it seemed he'd had dominion over winter from the very first. Research of a more... intimate nature, now that was quite another thing.

"Don't stop on my account, mate," Aster said.

"I was about done anyways. That's an annoying language." Jack stood up and stretched, aware of Aster's regard. His... rather appreciative regard. Well, that was something at least. It was nice having a mate who wanted him, however he looked.

"See something you like?" he asked, when he'd finished stretching, but Aster was still staring.

"Hm, maybe. I think I need a closer look before I can be sure." Aster grinned, and held out one hand. "C'mere, love."

Jack's heart, treacherous thing that it was, gave a little flutter at the endearment. He had to admit, if only to himself, he'd put up with a lot of annoying habits to be called Aster's love. And really, was it so bad that Aster was focused entirely on Jack during sex? He was fairly certain that was something he should have been enjoying, rather than getting annoyed about.

At least, that was what the books all implied. To be the utter focus of one person, to be up on a pedestal and worshiped...

No, he couldn't convince himself to enjoy it. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. Or perhaps he wanted sex to be less like worship and more of an equal exchange.

He sighed, and sat down on the couch, nestling to the side against his mate's warmth. He did enjoy being smaller than Aster, being the sheltered one instead of the one giving shelter. And Aster seemed to enjoy the change too. But then, perhaps he just liked being able to take revenge for Jack's previous habit of picking him up in a princess carry and carting him around that way.

"Something the matter?" Aster brushed one hand over Jack's head, then tugged  on the heavy braid. Jack's hair, it seemed, was not only long, it was fine, whatever that meant. Easily broken, apparently. And very easily tangled. Jack had braided it sometime during the second day in Aster's Warren, and, reminded of it as he was, he thought again about cutting it off.

Well, maybe later. Aster seemed to like it long.

"Not exactly," he said, feeling his way carefully, testing each word before he said it. "Just something I've been thinking about over the past few days."

"Something I can help with?"

Well, if ever there was an opening he could use, it was that one. "No doubt," Jack said, and cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to sound quite so... wryly sarcastic, he supposed. "Yes. I... I don't know if it's just me, or if... but, yes, there is something."

Aster looked worried. "What?"

"During sex," Jack said.

"Am I doing something you don't like?"

"Huh?"

"You said during sex. What-" Aster bit his lower lip, and continued. "If I'm doing something that's making you uncomfortable, Jackie, I want to know so I can stop."

"It's not what you're doing," Jack said. "Mostly not. I..." He huffed, and stood up. Pacing didn't help, except as a way to bleed off some of his frustration. "When you..." He reached back and yanked on his braid. "During sex," he said, firmly.

Aster nodded. "Just- just tell me what I'm doing wrong. I'll fix it, I swear."

"Would you stop saying that?" Jack clenched one hand into a fist. "You're not doing anything wrong. You're just... being selfish." _Not_ the right word.

"Selfish!" Aster sat bolt upright. "Just how'm I being _selfish_?"

Really not the right word, Jack thought, even as he spun on his mate and did his best to loom. Looming was better done as a nine foot tall ice beast, instead of a five-foot-four human. Like this, even with Aster sitting down on the couch, they were very nearly eye to eye. "You don't let me do anything," he hissed. " _You_ get all the fun!"

"Fu-fun? What do you mean, not let you do anything? I thought you were enjoying yourself!"

Jack yanked at his braid again. "I am! I'm saying this wrong," he growled, and folded his arms with another huff.

"Jack, love." Aster stood up, and wrapped his arms around Jack's shoulders. "Whatever it is..."

Jack sighed, and leaned forward into Aster. "Maybe I'm overreacting," he admitted. "It just... it's stupid. It's just that during sex, it feels like you don't want me touching you."

"That's starkers, ya dill." Aster rubbed his chin against Jack's head. "Love it when you touch me."

Jack smiled, and ran one hand down Aster's back.

The Pooka twitched, as though trying to move away from the contact.

Jack might have lost his temper. A little bit.

He shoved Aster back onto the couch, growling like thunder. **_"That's what I mean,"_** he snarled. **_"You're always moving away! Apparently it's fine for you to turn me into a happy pile of goo, but I'm not allowed to return the favor- and your sex drive is higher than mine, I'd think you'd welcome such as I'd like to do to you!"_**

Aster looked stunned. Jack could only imagine he hadn't realized what impression he was giving, but perhaps now he'd think on it. He stared up at Jack, wide eyed, ears back and mouth slightly open. Really, that last was too much of a temptation. Jack swooped down and pressed his mouth to Aster's, working the liplock to a searing heat at once. He might as well demonstrate what he meant...

He stroked his hands up and down Aster's sides, as hard and demanding as his mouth, before resting one hand on Aster's waist and moving the other one up and over the Pooka's chest, fingers feeling for the rabbit's nipples. They had to be somewhere, he was mammalian and even marsupials nursed their young...

Hah, there! Hidden by the thick fur, but Jack had found them all the same. He pulled away from the kiss, grinned wickedly, and tweaked the nipple under his fingers. Aster yelped, and pressed up into the contact.

**_"I've been wanting to do this ever since our first time,"_** he said, pressing his mouth to the base of one long ear and letting his voice rumble through his chest. **_"And so much more. But no. You wanted all the focus to be on me, instead of letting me return the favor to your fluffy rump."_**

He pinched Aster's nipple again, as punctuation, and the sound Aster made sent a shot of pure lust to his groin.

"Jack," Aster whined, and began running his hands over Jack's chest.

Jack snarled, and grabbed Aster's wrists in one hand, then lifted up, so Aster couldn't touch him.

Lifted up...

He shoved the lust clouding his mind to one side, and frowned. His hands were now too small for him to hold Aster's wrists, both of them, in one hand. And yet...

Ah. It seemed he'd gotten bigger. A glance down proved it; he was dressed, such as it was, in the shreds of his clothing, bigger scraps of fabric strewn across the floor. And he felt the familiar weight of his curling horns, even as he noticed the fur covering his thighs. His hair was still in a braid. If he remembered, he'd wonder about that later.

**_"Interesting,"_** he said, and looked down at Aster. He grinned. Judging by the erection, Aster was not turned off by the change in Jack's appearance, or the circumstances. **_"Well now,"_** he murmured, and was rewarded with a delighted shiver. **_"Shall I demonstrate what I've wanted to do to you?"_**

Aster's eyes got wider, somehow, and he spread his legs. "What sort of things?" he asked, voice breathless and high.

Jack smirked, and began playing with his captive mate. He pinched and rubbed both nipples until Aster was a keening, writhing mess, erection leaking pre-come enough that the fur of his sheath was wet. He'd have a sore and bruised chest in the morning, Jack was sure, but he imagined Aster would feel it worth the pain. Especially since- he tweaked Aster's nipples again- he did seem to be enjoying it so.

"Ja- _aaa_ -ack!" Aster thrust upwards, and whined. "Jack, please..."

**_"Please, what?"_** What would happen if he licked at one of Aster's nipples? Well, Aster wailed, and thrashed on the couch, arms straining as he tried to pull free of Jack's grip. Jack's laugh was muffled against his mate's chest.

Then he focused on licking and sucking at the pebbled buds, abusing them further. Aster screamed when Jack nipped at one, and screamed again when he moved his attentions to the other. Finally, Jack sucked hard on one nipple, even as he tweaked the other with his free hand.

It was too much for Aster; he convulsed, and came, semen coating his stomach almost all the way up to his pectoral muscles. Jack grinned, and let go of Aster's wrists.

**_"Here, now,"_** he murmured, and pushed lightly at the rabbit's shoulder. Aster laid down on the couch, on his back, without protest. He blinked up at Jack, cock already hardening again.

"You, ah," he said, panting. "You wanted to do that?"

**_"Mm. Quite. But as I said, you've been very selfish."_** Jack brushed his fingers down along Aster's flank to his hip, and back up. **_"No worries. I intend to have my fun now."_**

He tweaked one of Aster's nipples, again, and grinned at the resulting yell. Oh, this _was_ fun.

He looked up at his mate's face, and let his eyes close halfway. Aster was trembling, ever so slightly, but it was something other than fear. Very much not fear. Oh, no... Jack had seen _that_ expression enough to recognize it. Aster was feeling _lust_.

The _least_ he could do was fulfill Aster's desire.

Jack leaned over and kissed Aster, hard and demanding. One hand tight on the Pooka's hip, the other on his chest pressing down. Aster whimpered and struggled to kiss back, his hands running over Jack's arms and shoulders. He also thrust his hips upward, or tried. Jack was able to hold his hips still with just one hand.

Apparently, Aster liked that. He whined into the kiss, and spread his legs so one dangled over the side of the couch. Jack thought about it, but... not yet.

Instead, he pulled back, and began stroking his hands up and down his mate's body. Up to the shoulders, then back down over his chest (making sure to press against his nipples as he went), down his stomach and then out to the side over his hips, ignoring his groin for the moment. Down the sides of his thighs to the knee, then back up along the back to cup Aster's rump, further up so his fingers ran over the sweet little cottontail, and along Aster's sides to his shoulders, where Jack repeated the process.

And again. And again. Jack grinned at how quickly Aster became... incoherent and pleading. Perhaps that was why he'd focused all of his attention on Jack, dismissing Jack's attempts to reciprocate. Although if that were so... Well, Jack was still annoyed, but rather less so.

He paused in his stroking, hands clamped tight on Aster's hips, and stared at his mate's face. Aster's face was twisted up in powerful emotion, and his eyes were open the barest sliver. Jack doubted he could see anything at all; the line of green meant nothing so far as vision went.

" _Jack_ ," Aster whined.

**_"Yes?"_** He rubbed his thumbs in tiny circles over Aster's hipbones. His erection twitched, seeming to strain higher in the air.

"Jack. Please. _Please_."

**_"Please what?"_** He shifted one hand down to Aster's rump, and began rubbing at his tailbase. Aster's mouth dropped open, but he didn't scream. Perhaps he couldn't. He did orgasm, his entire body going stiff, and then forcibly relaxing once the orgasm had run its course.

Jack began rubbing at his tail base again, and then reached up with his other hand and began playing with Aster's nipples.

The reaction was instantaneous. Aster convulsed in another orgasm, barely hard again from the last.

Jack chuckled, and stopped touching his mate. Perhaps it was best to give him a moment to recover...

Nah... Where was the fun in that?

Jack ducked down, and licked slowly up Aster's cock, from sheath to tip, and back down again. Aster groaned, limbs twitching.

"J-Jack..." Aster tried to thrust upward, but the attempt was weak, and Jack easily held him down with one hand. With his other, he cupped the underside of Aster's thigh, encouraging the Pooka to lift his leg and drape it over Jack's shoulder.

**_"Mm?"_** he asked, and, mouth around the tip of Aster's cock, growled.

Aster whimpered and twitched, but didn't orgasm. Well enough. Jack had noticed that Aster could get three orgasms in before Jack had his one, and they didn't go much past that. Although that was likely because Aster didn't want to push Jack for more, or had a care for the human's refractory period. Regardless of the reason, during sex Aster only had three orgasms, no more.

It would be quite fun to change that, wouldn't it?

The semen coating Aster's cock tasted rather bittersweet, really, and musky. It reminded him a bit of cologne he'd smelt back sometime, though nicer.

He kneaded one hand against Aster's hip, and worked on getting more and more of the Pooka's cock into his mouth. He had to stop halfway down, as any further would have triggered his gag reflex. That would have killed the mood. Instead, he pressed his tongue against Aster's cock and licked up and down, with his lips pressed tightly closed around the intrusion in his mouth. The warm, bittersweet tasting intrusion. If he _wanted_ it there, could it really be called an intrusion?

He sucked, hard, and Aster cried out as he came. Jack nearly choked, but managed to swallow most of Aster's semen. Drips escaped him, however, and slid down Aster's cock to the base, or dripped down his chin.

Jack sat up, and licked his lips. **_"You taste good,"_** he said, growling deliberately.

Aster's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and his eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head.

Jack growled again, and lunged forward. He swallowed down Aster's squeak, and stuck his tongue in the Pooka's mouth, and ground _down_ against the renewed erection pressing against his hip.

Aster bucked up against him, screaming again. Another orgasm? Jack grinned into the kiss, before biting down on Aster's lower lip and sucking.

He worked his mate into another orgasm, using little more than his hands, his mouth, and his weight, and then worked him into near-hysterical readiness and held him there. It was rather amusing, the sounds and words the rabbit uttered, as Jack pinched, stroked, and fondled, but never enough to let him drop over the edge and come.

**_"Don't tell me you're not enjoying this,"_** Jack growled. **_"I can tell that you are."_**

"I- ah! F-fuck... Jack... f-fu-ah! Me- _eee_! Please just-" Aster cut off to scream, as Jack finished teasing and wrapped one hand around his cock, and stroked upward once.

Jack stuck two fingers into Aster's mouth, and the rabbit began to suck and moan. His fur was soaked, from stomach to halfway down his thighs, and yet his cock was still hard. Jack growled to himself, and pressed his other hand against his own cock, hard and aching and thus far neglected.

Fingers in his mouth or no, Aster saw the movement, and his eyes widened. Then he wiggled his hips and tried to spread his legs wider.

**_"Oh, don't worry,"_** Jack said. **_"We'll get there. But first we need oil."_**

Aster reached up and began scrambling at his bandolier. At some point, soon, Jack would have to pull that thing off Aster and set it aside. Although, he thought, snickering faintly, wearing it somehow made Aster look even more debauched than he would have otherwise.

Jack tweaked one of Aster's nipples, and the Pooka stopped scrambling at his bandolier to clutch at Jack's hand, mouth open in a silent wail. Jack urged Aster to get the oil with his voice, even as he stroked and pinched and worked him back up to a state of near mindless arousal, barely able to hold on let alone unfasten the pouch the oil was stored in.

Jack moved one hand down and began stroking Aster's testes, rubbing the pads of his thumb and fingers over the fur covered bumps. Smaller than his own; they didn't dangle as a human's did, perhaps Pooka required a higher temperature for healthy sperm, instead of a lower one. The reason didn't matter so much as Aster's reaction to having them touched. He screamed, and came, eyes rolled back and spine arched in a way that looked extremely painful.

Jack sighed. **_"Get the_ oil _, Aster. Really now..."_** He left Aster's testes alone for a moment, and gently scratched his claws through the fur on the rabbit's thigh.

Aster began fumbling at the bandolier pouch again.

Jack eventually took pity on his mate, and left him alone long enough to get the oil out of the pouch. Once it was out, of course, Jack returned to his tormenting, stroking and squeezing Aster's thighs with one hand, even as he held the vial carefully in his teeth and pulled the bandolier off with his other hand.

By that point, his mate was barely able to do more than whimper and twitch, eyes wide and hazy, mouth open as he gasped desperately for breath. Jack held up the vial of oil, and Aster's eyes brightened.

**_"I assume you want this, then,"_** Jack said, and popped the cork out of the vial mouth. He poured a measure of the oil out onto his fingers, and then corked the vial again and set it aside. He rubbed both hands together, making sure his fingers were slicked up, and then stroked his cock several times to ensure it was covered as well.

Then he slid one finger into Aster, without giving his mate any additional warning.

Aster clenched around the finger and came, hard. Jack didn't let him catch his breath; as soon as he could move one finger in and out with ease, he slid in a second, and then a third. Aster thrashed and wailed under him, his cock either leaking pre-come at an enthusiastic rate, or he was coming several times from the stimulation. Hard to say, really.

Jack growled under his breath as he worked at stretching his mate's arse, at least until he lost patience and pulled his fingers out. Aster twitched, and opened his eyes wide, expression desperate.

**_"Hold on,"_** Jack growled, and scooped him up off the couch. The nearest table was perfect, really; the right height, big enough no one would fall off, and _there_. There and solid and there.

He set Aster down on the table, and rested one hand on each of the rabbit's thighs. They spread open wide enough for him to step forward, wide enough that when he pulled Aster to the edge of the table, to the point where his hips almost hung off the edge, he was able to lean forward just a little bit and their cocks brushed.

**_"Do you want me to?"_** he asked, and pressed forward. **_"Aster? Do you want me to-"_** he blushed, and stuttered, **_"to fuck you?"_**

Apparently coherency was not out of Aster's reach. "Yes," he gasped, and tried to spread his legs even wider. "Yes, yes, yes, Jack, yes, now, please, yes."

Well, since he asked so nicely...

Jack lined himself up, and then thrust in. Aster wailed, and came _again_ \- Jack wasn't sure if he was bemused or satisfied. Probably both- and then continued to wail as Jack thrust in and out, hands clenched tight on his mate's hips to hold him in place.

Jack clenched his teeth, his world narrowing down to this- the sound of Aster, wailing and babbling and gasping, the feel of tight warmth around his cock, pressure building in his groin and his balls as he fucked Aster, hard, fucked him as he came again and again and then Jack felt the pressure explode and he saw stars.

And also collapsed forward onto the table, squishing his mate under his bulk.

He breathed heavily, until his heart finally stopped trying to pound its way through his chest. Aster was... huh. Not quite unconscious, but he barely stirred when Jack pushed himself back up, to stand on wobbly legs, or pulled his now limp dick out.

**_"There now,"_** Jack mumbled, and picked Aster up again. It took more effort than usual to transport the both of them through the ice of the Fortress, to his rather empty bedroom. There was a bed, with actual mattress and heavy blankets, which was the important thing. They could clean themselves up later.

Tempting as it was to just drop down on top of the blankets... Jack set Aster down first, pulled the blankets down without disturbing his mate too much, and then crawled in beside the rabbit. He pulled the blankets back up, and pulled Aster in close, until the Pooka curled up against his chest and sighed happily.

Jack smirked, even as he dropped down into sleep. Perhaps now Aster would know what he meant when he said the Pooka was being _selfish_.

And if not... Jack would just demonstrate what he meant, again. Aster was clever, he surely wouldn't require _too_ many demonstrations...

For some reason, though, Jack found himself hoping that in this, his mate would be denser than a bag of bricks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there's one last chapter left- the epilogue. Every good fairy tale needs the 'and they lived happily ever after', after all, so.
> 
> After this... Ghost Jack- AKA Moonlight and Shadows- and then Assassins Jack- Melian, of the trilogy Rise of the Assassins- will trade off posting. I figure Ghost on Tuesdays, Assassins on Thursdays. That's fair.


	41. Epilogue

_Three years later..._

Elsa paused on her way across the room at the whispered, "something's up with Jack." She turned, and frowned. The little icicle man never noticed her as she ghosted over to stand just behind him. Just as he was about to repeat himself, she reached up and smacked him upside the head.

"Of course something's 'up' with his lordship, Elkana, as you should well know," she snapped, glaring at the icicle man. He scowled at her, but wasn't about to attack the Ice Lord's majordomo, verbally or otherwise, in full view of the court. "The plague situation over in Poland's settled down, and Mr. Bunny will be home soon."

Elkana pouted, and folded his arms. The icicle dripping from the tip of his nose quivered from his indignation. "The rabbit is a _spring_ spirit," he whined. "He shouldn't be in the Summer Court at all!"

Elsa smacked him again, on the arm this time. "Mr. Bunny has been with our lord since before there was a Court at all! Now, be quiet or I'll see you banished from Court for the rest of the season!"

Which, she well knew, would leave Elkana with nothing to do through the dull summer months. Winter spirits, for some odd reason, were primarily a northern hemisphere phenomenon. The very few southern hemisphere spirits of ice and snow did not consider themselves _winter_ spirits at all, but independents, and Jack Frost wasn't the type of person who'd force the issue.

She shook her head, frowned at the spirits who'd been listening to Elkana until they got a hint and sheepishly moved on, and then continued on her course.

Jack was on his throne, looking cranky. Of course, he'd been looking cranky ever since that nasty plague in Poland had started up. Between the death toll, which had started off horrific and had only barely gotten better- until the recent discovery of a cure, thanks to Mr. Bunny's interference, no doubt- and having to spend his time hunting down the plague spirit responsible- and then having to give the spirit over to Amaterasu, as apparently Lamashtu counted as a summer spirit, well... It was no wonder he had been spending all of his time in his beastly shape, instead of his human one. In his beastly shape he could growl all he liked and not hurt his throat.

Elsa had done her best with her lord's temper, really she had, but after a certain point she and his children had decided to just leave him to sulk. He wouldn't settle down until Mr. Bunny came back, and that was that.

Of course, Katya and Loptr no longer lived in the Fortress full-time, or even _most_ of the time, so _they_ didn't have to put up with their father's moods. Elsa did. There were times she wished Katya had never learnt how to shapeshift herself, taking human form as the summer firebirds were said to do. Although, really, Katya made a lovely bird-woman. She was rather more human in shape than Ms. Tooth, since Katya had skin instead of feathers. Now that she'd figured out how to make herself flesh instead of living ice- and oh, that had caused quite the uproar, and it had been _Loptr_ in a temper instead of Jack, who'd instead been delighted at the discovery- she had dark blue and bright silver feathers.

She'd also set to courting Ms. Tooth with an intensity that at times worried everyone but Ms. Tooth herself. Katya was just so _young_. Although she had the mind and powers of an adult, she was only a few years old. Still, it had all worked out in the end, as Elsa supposed she should have expected; Jack only threatened Ms. Tooth a _little_ , and he kept looking ready to burst with pride whenever he saw his little girl attending Court.

Not that Katya _looked_ like a little girl; she was almost as tall as Mr. Bunny, which meant she towered over Ms. Tooth when they were both standing, instead of Ms. Tooth hovering in the air. Katya, in human shape, had long silver hair that went all the way down to the backs of her knees, and she often kept it braided, with dark blue feathers on silver clips at both temples. Her dress was always made out of more feathers, dark blue and silver, and when she took avian form her dress became her skin, so to speak. And she wore a _lot_ of silver jewelry, necklaces and bracelets and arm bands, anklets, belts, and more, with moonstones and any precious or semi-precious stone that happened to be a shade of blue as ornamentation. Ms. Tooth had given her most of it.

They made such a pretty picture together, Ms. Tooth and Katya, and Elsa suspected that was one reason why Jack had given in. That, and how _happy_ the two of them were once the courting was finished and they were nesting together. Jack had been giving serious thought to what he'd be Guardian of, and Joy was right up his alley. And hadn't it been joy that returned him to human form in the first place?

So, no, he wasn't about to break up a pairing that made friend and daughter both so happy. And if he occasionally glowered at Ms. Tooth now and then, well, what father didn't occasionally get cranky at the thought of his little girl growing up and leaving home? Or get annoyed at the one responsible for said leaving?

Elsa looked around the room until she caught sight of Katya and Ms. Tooth, deep in conversation with an ice maiden and some form of dryad, one clearly associated with some kind of evergreen or pine. Katya had one hand at the small of Ms. Tooth's back, and she was paying more attention to her mate than her conversational partners. Elsa beamed in their direction, even if they didn't see her. A very pretty picture indeed.

Loptr had only calmed down about his sister's success (and chasing of Ms. Tooth) when he had made the acquaintance of a river dragon from Japan. The apprenticeship was still in its early days, yet, but Loptr seemed to have found his own work, being a protective and benevolent guardian of Japan's snowy mountain peaks. The Oriental spirits did their work a touch differently than the Western method Elsa was more used to, in that one had to be assigned one's position instead of just... settling in it without fanfare or acknowledgment, but it did seem to be working for Loptr.

The ice dragon had yet to change from living ice to flesh, or from dragon to human, but he didn't seem to want to. Perhaps that would change if he ever met someone who made his currently non-existent heart pound, but clearly that had not happened yet.

Much to Jack's relief.

Elsa reached her destination, the part of the room set aside for the 'younger' members of court, those who, for one reason or other, were mentally children. Most of Elsa's sisters, the other match girls, played with a few of Ms. Tooth's mini-fairy helpers, while they took a break from their hectic workload, several of the younger snow maidens, and one poor winter wood-spirit who'd gotten hit by lightning and had the general attitude and attention span of a particularly good-natured basset hound. A very nice man, but very dim.

"Sunjay," Elsa said, looking for her particular friend among Ms. Tooth's mini-fairies.

Ah, there she was. Sunjay sped out of the group playing tag, and alit on Elsa's upheld palm.

"Sunjay, did you get a chance to talk to them?" Elsa looked around, and then ducked into an odd corner formed by a pillar near the wall. "What did they say?"

Sunjay sighed, and began twittering and squeaking. Elsa had to concentrate in order to understand her friend.

"They said no?" she asked, disappointed. Oh, Jack seemed happy enough with Katya and Loptr, and having adopted the match girls in all but name, and Mr. Bunny seemed happy too... But Elsa wanted to make them _really_ happy. They were both boys, true, but they were also both _shapeshifters_. Mr. Bunny or Jack could _easily_ take a female shape- well, she supposed they could, she hadn't asked- but since they were boys, they wouldn't be fertile that way. Probably. She was assuming, mostly, which was why she'd asked Sunjay to go talk to the Hindu goddesses of fertility.

Sunjay shook her head, and made a few corrective squeaks.

"Not _yet_? Why not yet?" Elsa shook her head. "That makes no sense, Sunjay. You _know_ they'd love a child of their bodies. It'd make them both so-"

Sunjay cut her off, her squeaks getting higher and higher in pitch.

"Oh. Oh! Oh, I see. You're right. Newlyweds and babies don't go together." Elsa giggled a little from embarrassment. Although not nearly as much embarrassment as Jack and Mr. Bunny had suffered, that time she'd walked into the library while they'd been... busy.

She always knocked before entering a room, now.

"And they should be the ones to ask," she admitted. "You're right about that. But?"

Sunjay giggled as well, and fluttered her tiny wings. She did a loop de loop above Elsa's hands, and twittered in delight.

"Oh, they will! Maybe in a decade or two they'll be less... obsessed with each other?"

Sunjay looked doubtful.

"Ready to share each other with a baby, then," Elsa said. "When they're ready, I'll start hinting. And the ladies said they'd keep my lord and Mr. Bunny in mind?"

The little fairy nodded, and giggled again. Elsa giggled in response.

Oh, that'd be fun! She would like to have a younger sibling, really. All of her sisters would. And Mr. Bunny and Jack would have the _best_ baby in the whole _world_.

There was a commotion by the doors, and Elsa flew up so she could get a good look without pushing through the crowd.

The doors were opening! She squealed when she caught sight of Mr. Bunny coming in, even before the doorman called out "E. Aster Bunnymund, Herald and Mantle of Spring" for the benefit of those who couldn't fly.

Jack stood up from his throne and strode across the room, paying the crowd no mind. Thankfully everyone knew to get out of his way, and did, or he might have walked over people. He'd have felt bad about it later, but he _was_ currently in his beast form, so he was very, very heavy. Getting stepped on would hurt.

Jack reached Mr. Bunny, and wrapped him up in a hug, and then they were kissing. Elsa sighed a little at the sight, but before long she got embarrassed and had to look away. Kissing was all well and good in theory, and it _was_ very nice seeing two people so in love greet each other, but after a certain point, well!

When she looked back, Mr. Bunny and Jack were gone, doubtless having transported to the bedroom. Probably the bedroom here in the Fortress, but it was quite possible that Jack had transported them to the Warren, so they wouldn't be disturbed _at all_.

"I don't think they're ready for a baby yet," Elsa said, looking down at Sunjay.

The little fairy twittered and nodded.

"I think it might be more like five decades," she said, and looked out over the room.

Yes, she thought. In five decades Jack and Mr. Bunny would have probably calmed down, and would probably be wondering how to expand their little family. Elsa smiled at the thought. She'd rather enjoy hinting and suggesting, and later... Well, who knew?

They were spirits, and there was magic, and when a lonesome beast could fall in love and make winter a fun time, instead of a fearful one... Well, anything could happen then, couldn't it?

Elsa couldn't wait.

Once upon a time, not so very far away, a young man lived under a great curse. His life had stolen his emotions from him, his wonder, dreams, memories, hope, and joy. He had become isolated, disdaining the outside world and the people that lived in it. Alone, he fell into despair, holding only to his duty to the humans.

And yet one day, his isolation was broken. A brave soldier of a dead people extended a hand in friendship, inviting the young man back into the world. As his horizons expanded, the young man began to feel again, emotions he had once thought lost to him. He began to find the wonder in the world, began to dream and remember, and most importantly, began to hope.

Through it all, the brave soldier kept the young man company, and they fell in love. And in that love, the young man found joy, breaking his curse. Together, the young man and the brave soldier worked hand in hand to make their world a bright one, a safe one for those weaker than they.

As spirits, they had a very long time to spend together, happy, in love, looking forward to a bright future.

And they lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Pooka-Curse demanded I post the Epilogue today instead of Wednesday, so... Enjoy! Yes, it's over. I do have an AU of this, though, so the Ice Lord will return... but first we've got Ghostie, Assassin, Werewolf, Kitty, and a few others. Whee!
> 
> And, for the record. 41 chapters, 129,969 words... this is currently my longest ANYTHING, fanfic or original novel, to date. And yes, that includes the trilogies, I do believe.


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